Another Ramblin' Story
by screenwriter2014
Summary: An insight into what you didn't see on-screen...
1. Chapter 1

OK, so I don't buy how Lewis and Hobson got together... So I'm filling in some gaps. Broadly speaking this will follow the events in Ramblin' Boy...but I will try not to rehash much that you actually see on screen. This is what we didn't get to see! Hope you enjoy - please review if you have a moment, it's great to hear your feedback, and since I'm writing this one 'in real time' I look forward to incorporating suggestions!

* * *

Sitting outside in the pub garden, Laura Hobson should have been excited. It was one of those balmy summer evenings, she had on a new dress, she'd finally had time to get her hair cut, and, cradling an icy gin and tonic, she was waiting to meet a handsome and intelligent microbiologist. But she wasn't excited. In truth, Laura was exhausted. Three callouts this week, one to the murder of a child, found in a shallow grave outside Banbury, and her persistent, relentless insomnia had left her drained and fragile.

The date had been arranged almost a month ago, but what with Michael's lecturing, her erratic shifts and his recent trip to Princeton, they had only just managed to fix a space in their diaries. Divorced, a leading light in his field, and an excellent polo player, by all accounts, he was surely one of Oxford's most eligible bachelors. At least that was what Abigail, one of her old College friends insisted. "Why not? What have you got to lose?" They'd met at Abigail's fiftieth birthday party, exchanged numbers and promised to call. In the end he'd sent her an email, and here they were. First-date hell, and frankly she was tired of it.

He was running late, so she had ordered a drink and sat down in the garden. She didn't feel nervous these days, too many terrible first-dates under the belt to worry about nerves. Just a little sad that it had come to this. The pub was busy, and she let her eyes wander to the groups of people at the other tables. It was a Friday night and the after-work crowd were well into their second pints...laughing loudly, chatting animatedly. She checked her phone, he was now twenty minutes late.

Over by the river, she noticed a familiar figure, gazing out over the water. Robbie. She smiled to herself, as she always did when she thought about him. He looked slightly sad, pensive. Idly she wondered if he might have a date too, then rapidly dismissed the thought. No, not Robbie. He turned slightly, and the breath caught in her throat. Suddenly she didn't want him to see her here, waiting for someone else. This whole set up suddenly felt tawdry and pathetic. But he turned back..._He didn't see me..._ she murmured to herself, smiling at the irony. _Wouldn't be the first time..._

What was it, this strange relationship of theirs? He was her closest friend, and yet there was so much unsaid between them. There had been a time after Val's death when she had genuinely wondered whether they might have a chance together, as something more, but as the years passed, he never mentioned it. And the longer the silence stretched, the harder it became to break. _What are you waiting for, Laura? Knights in shining armour to sweep you off your feet? A ride off into the sunset? No. Not anymore._

As Michael strode purposefully towards her, grinning confidently she raised a wan smile. It was going to be a long night.

Resting her bike against the wall and threading through the heavy lock, Laura yawned loudly. It was just after 10, but she was truly shattered. In the end, Michael had been interesting to talk to - well, listen to. She hadn't really managed to get a word in edgeways, but on this particular occasion she hadn't minded. Luckily, he had an early flight to Singapore the next morning, so had called time on their 'date' just after 9.30. He'd pulled out his iPhone, trying to schedule another meeting, but she artfully dodged that request with a promise to check her diary when she got to work tomorrow.

* * *

So...home again. As she walked through the hall and into the kitchen, Laura didn't bother to turn on the lights. The gloom suited her disposition. Extracting a chilled bottle of wine from the fridge, she poured a glass, and padded into the living room. It was tidy - of course - but there were several neat piles of paper organised on the coffee table. She switched on the small side lamp, and sat down on the sofa. Pulling her feet up underneath her, she picked up the top file and began to read.

Several hours later, she was still working. It was well past midnight, and the house was silent. The files now lay at her feet, and the pad in front of her was covered in her precise notes. She glanced at the clock on the side table and sighed. She should try to sleep. But she knew that sleep would be impossible tonight. Several days of callouts, a tragic death... she was overtired, and she knew what that would yield. Fitful, terrifying nightmares. As reliable as the seasons. They had started early in her career, waking her almost every night for the first few years of her training. Vivid and brutal images, always in slow motion, always accompanied by a harsh sound of laughing. Eventually, with the careful administration of benzodiazepines and lots of exercise, she had eased the relentlessness of the dreams. But recently they had become worse than ever. Of course, being nearly buried alive hadn't helped, but it was more than that. Whenever she shut her eyes, a cold dread would seep over her, and she was afraid to sleep, knowing that soon she would wake, feeling worse than before.

In the darkness, a flashing red light caught her eye. Picking up her phone, she checked the screen. Robbie. He must have texted earlier, when her phone was still on silent.

'You alright, Laura? You weren't your useful sprightly self this morning. Beer?'

He knew. He always did. She smiled to herself. Yes, he was always thirsty, but he was always looking out for her too. She glanced at the clock. 12.45am. He'd probably still be up. Robbie was as bad as she was in the sleeping department, and it wasn't uncommon for them to hash through the finer details of their work at this hour.

'I'm fine. Trouble sleeping again. You still up?'

Within a minute of her pressing send, the phone began to vibrate.

"Honestly Laura, you're as bad as me..."

She smiled sadly, as they slipped into their easy banter.

"I know, I know...sleep is for the weak, and all that."

"How was your evening? Did you do anything nice?"

She faltered for a moment, wondering if he had seen her by the river after all,

"Fine. Nothing special. You?"

"Thrilling - shift with Hathaway until 10, a no. 36 from the Bengal, and a pile of paperwork the size of bloody Big Ben. Honestly, I'm getting too old for all these late shifts.'

She chuckled quietly, imagining him filling out forms and cursing as he put things in the wrong boxes.

"Paperwork never really has been one of your strong points. Anything I can help with?"

"No, more's the pity. So what did you get up to, Laura? Corpses or carnations?"

She smiled…he knew how much she loved her garden,

"Neither actually."

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose,

"I had a date, Robbie...and before you say anything, it was dull and I won't be seeing him again"

She heard him smile sympathetically.

"I'm sorry to hear that..." His voice was quiet, but he sounded genuine.

"You are?"

"Well, of course, you deserve to be happy, pet"

"I am happy... It's fine. I'm fine."

"I know." The silence hung between them. "Well, if you get really desperate, I can always take you for a curry"

From his tone, she knew he was joking. She knew that she was supposed to laugh it off. Another cheeky comment in their never-ending game. It was what they did for light entertainment. But here on her own, at one in the morning, tired and anxious, it didn't feel very funny anymore. She closed her eyes and smiled wanly at the phone, unsure what to say.

"No jokes tonight, Robbie, I'm not in the mood"

The sudden change in tone shocked him and for a second he wasn't sure how to reply. Laura never missed a chance for a laugh.

"Aww come on, I'm only winding you up, don't worry I won't follow through!"

Again, silence as the truth in his words hit home. Then a muffled sound as she transferred the phone to her other hand.

"Please Robbie, I'm not in the mood for games tonight, I'm tired."

His brow furrowed, as he waited for her to elaborate. When she didn't, he found his voice:

"I'm not playing games with you, I'm sorry Laura, I didn't mean to upset you"

She was quiet for a moment, then her soft voice faltered slightly as she replied and he realised that she was fighting back emotion:

"Yes, you are...but no matter how much I try to keep to the rules, I can't win. And I'm tired of playing."

Robbie Lewis sat back heavily in his chair, alarmed and confused at the turn the conversation had taken. He felt queasy. For a moment he could almost pretend that he didn't understand what she meant. But he did. And she was right. This was his game, his rules, and he knew exactly what she was saying. A carefully orchestrated dance which kept them safely at arms' length. A game with no winners, a delaying tactic he'd chosen first out of necessity, and kept out of habit. As the silence stretched out between them, he knew that it was time to put an end to their hopeless charade.

"We don't need to play anymore, Laura, I'm sorry."

She bit her lip, not trusting her voice. She nodded, knowing that finally he had made the situation clear. She would not let him know how upset she was by his rejection. She should have known better to hope. She was stronger than this, and she had known it was coming. Nothing had changed. Pressing her eyes shut, she steeled herself. Tomorrow they would go back to work, tomorrow she would be professional, and then maybe, in time, they could be close friends again. It was easier this way. Finally he had been straight with her.

"Thank you"

In the circumstances, it seemed a strange choice of words, and it took a moment for him to process it.

"No Laura, I mean... I agree."

He waited, trying to choose his words carefully.

"Let's stop playing around…"

She blinked, not immediately understanding,

"No more games?"

"I'm too old for games, Laura."

He paused, unsure how to say it. How to finally tell her how he felt. How he had been feeling for months.

"And I want us to…"

What did he want exactly? Did he know? He swallowed, trying not to overthink things,

"I want to be with you"

For a long moment, she was silent. She took a deep breath to compose herself. In an instant, the picture had changed. He had said it. The pause stretched out.

"I want that too"

There. What needed to be said, had been said, and for a moment neither of them felt the need to say anything further. Perhaps a conversation that had required over a decade to be spoken deserved a silence which befitted it. Clutching her knees to her chest, she wiped the tears from her face and asked in a quiet voice,

"What do we do now, Robbie?"

He smiled to himself, as her organized, logical brain took control of the situation. He knew how much this conversation had taken for her, for both of them. How long it had been coming.

"Now, pet, I get you into bed"

Instantly cursing himself for the unintended double-entendre, he was relieved when she burst out laughing.

"Robbie Lewis, you should be ashamed of yourself!"

He grinned, relaxing into their easy banter,

"You always did have a filthy mind, Dr Hobson"

She sighed, the husky edge returning to her voice,

"You have no idea..."

They talked for another ten minutes like this, each teasing the other, easing the tension of their earlier exchange, until Laura yawned audibly.

"I meant it, you know, you really should try to sleep"

"I know...but"

"No buts, I mean it."

She hesitated, well aware that she was potentially returning to their earlier awkwardness:

"How are we going to do this, Robbie?"

He heard the caution in her voice and wished for a moment they were having this conversation face to face, so he could give her the hug she so desperately needed:

"I don't know. I think we should just take it one step at a time...see what feels right. There's no rush, pet. I'm sorry I couldn't say this sooner. I can't tell you how much I'm dying to see you tomorrow."

She grinned, her rapier wit returning:

"Well, so long as there aren't too many other people dying to see me tomorrow, I'm sure I can fit you in at some point".

He laughed out loud at that one, imagining her blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I'll take my chances. So, agreed - step by step...and go to bed."

"Yes, sir"

"Are you giving me cheek, Dr Hobson?"

"Maybe." She paused, softening her voice, "Good night Robbie, see you tomorrow".

"Good night, Laura"

* * *

As Robbie placed the phone carefully on the table, he closed his eyes. Finally, it was said. He had no idea what had prompted their exchange this evening; just like he honestly had no idea why it had never happened before. He had imagined telling her, and every time he'd thought through the words, he had felt terrified, overwhelmed, perhaps a little guilty. But now he felt none of those things. Just like every time he spoke to Laura, a warm feeling had spread across his chest, and this time, it hadn't left him. It just felt right.


	2. Chapter 2

The dim morning light was just beginning to creep under the curtains when Laura's mobile started to ring. She groaned, and barely opening her eyes, thrust a hand out from under the duvet to grab the offending item from her bedside table.

"Hobson"

The dispatch controller was polite and professional, they always were…and she tried to be polite back. They were only doing their job, even if it was 6am.

"Right, so the police are already there, and the area is cordoned off?"

"Yes, Dr; the SOCO team arrived in the last few minutes, hence my call."

"OK, thank you. How many bodies?"

"One, elderly male."

"I'll be there in 30 minutes"

She hung up, and for a moment slumped back into the pillows, relishing their soft embrace. She'd actually slept ok for once, and although she could have done without the early start, she felt much better. Gradually, the events of the previous night filtered back into her consciousness. _Robbie_. Her breath caught slightly, remembering his words. _I want to be with you. _She rolled over and pressed her face in the pillow, the warmth of anticipation spreading through her. She would see him today, that much was certain now. But what to say? How to take the first step? She couldn't exactly throw herself at him, could she? No. That wouldn't be right. She didn't want to do that. _Small steps_. She'd just be normal…wait for the right moment. It would come.

* * *

Arriving at the woods, she parked and looked quickly around. There was no sign of his car yet. Good. She felt nervous enough already, and she needed to get stuck in to whatever situation was beyond the cordon tape. Ten years of friendship…and now she chose this moment to be nervous. _God_. Even if her mind was elsewhere, she was very aware that she needed to focus on the scene and the job ahead. Every little detail mattered, and whatever she may or may not be feeling about seeing him, she had to be professional. She put on her suit carefully, making sure her jumper was closely fitted under the white elastic, and collecting her kit from the boot of the car, walked in the direction of the rest of the team.

About an hour later, she heard the sound of more cars arriving, and looked up briefly from her work. There he was. She looked back down quickly, and tried to concentrate on the task in hand. There were too many people around, and she was pretty sure that he would be as keen as she was to keep it discreet. She took another sample from the corpse's right sleeve, and tried to remember to breath. _Just be normal, Hobson. Normal is fine. _It seemed an age until his feet appeared in her line of sight.

* * *

As he stretched out his hand to help her up, she smiled broadly. She was wearing her surgical gloves, but the contact still sent a spark of energy up her arm. Here they were, joking as usual, as if nothing had happened…but it had. And as he looked into her eyes, she realised that some shift had occurred, everything felt different today. He still held her in his grip, and she realised that her thumb was caressing the back of his hand. Slowly, he released her hand, and he went back to his questions.

Little by little, Laura felt the nervous energy dissipating. _This isn't so bad_. He seemed distracted, but not by her. As always, he was methodically analysing the scene before him, taking in every detail. He made no mention of their late-night confession, but there was no need. He was as comfortable in her presence as she was with him…once they were alone, away from work, she was confident things would unfold naturally.

His phone rang, and he smiled awkwardly, stepping back slightly.

"I have to get this"

She nodded, smiling and stepping back into the shallow grave. He turned as he spoke, and soon he was engrossed in a conversation with Jean Innocent, outlining the scene and the first lines of enquiry. He turned back quickly, indicating that he needed to go and sort something, and then he was gone.

Later, as she walked back to her car, with Chris in tow, she wondered if she shouldn't have made that joke about him being a single man. She hadn't meant it quite like that. He seemed preoccupied and his comments about Jack Cornish really hadn't made any sense at all. Had she missed something? As she had feared, they had had almost no time to be alone this morning, and having Chris tag along in her car back to the lab did not help matters. She was pleased that neither of them had tried to force it, making a fool of themselves in front of the whole SOCO team. _Still_. Peeling off her gloves, she extracted the phone from her pocket, and quickly texted him,

'I'm sorry if that was a bit awkward. Are you ok? Lx'

She'd never added an 'x' before. She hoped he would notice. _Small steps and all that._ She slipped the phone back into her pocket, unlocked the car and waited for Chris to catch up.

* * *

As Robbie strode into the mortuary, he was immediately disappointed to see a number of technicians busy about their work. He'd hoped to finally catch Laura alone, but it seemed that now wouldn't be that moment either.

God she was beautiful. Even in those hideous green scrubs.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

She smiled knowingly, almost daring him to challenge her,

"I'm just wondering how you plan to solve this…"

He grinned, his eyes falling once again on her lips. _How easy would it be to kiss her, right now? _Her blue eyes sparkled, and he felt himself stepping forward. The door swung open again, startling them both, and another of the technicians brushed past him, brandishing an unfortunate array of drill bits on a tray. He shuddered slightly, and wondered, not for the first time, how to equate the delicate woman standing before him with that image of horror.

She bit her lip nervously, the moment lost. _There is no rush_. She smiled, their eyes meeting again, another moment of exquisite tension.

"I'm just wondering how you're going to manage all this without Hathaway"

He grinned, basking in her warmth, her good-natured teasing.

"With great skill…"

As he walked down the corridor, he found he couldn't resist sending her a message, and he extracted his phone from his inside pocket. When he had received her message earlier in the day, he hadn't know what to reply, but now he knew exactly what he wanted to say,

'Soon, pet. I promise. X'

* * *

It wasn't until later that afternoon that Laura saw his message. She had been caught up in the gruesome task of performing the preliminary organ investigation on the elderly man until 5pm, and it was only after she'd taken a quick shower and changed again, about to leave the office, that she noticed her phone flashing. As she read his short message, she felt instantly calmer, and a soft flush began to spread across her cheeks. _He wanted this as much as she did._ All day she had been worried about how they might take things forward, how they might finally open up to each other. They could do playful, she knew that, but she needed more. And here he was, Robbie Lewis the romantic. She hadn't seen that coming. She saved the message, and slipped her phone into her bag. She wasn't sure what to do now. Suddenly her evening plans seemed so insufficient…home, cleaning, gardening, dinner, work, bed. _Should she call him?_

As she walked to her car, she scanned the parking spaces. He wasn't here. He hadn't been on shift this morning, not until the call out, so she assumed he must be working a late one. She opened the car door, and swinging her bag onto the passenger seat, wondered again if she should call him. Sliding the keys into the ignition, she hesitated, cursing herself. She reached over and rummaged in the bag, and before allowing herself to think, she dialled his number.

It rang for a while, then clicked through to voicemail. It was automated, he'd never bothered to record a personal greeting, and before she realised it, the beep sounded, and she didn't know what to say,

'It's me…Laura… I just…. I don't know. I just wanted to see if you were free this evening.'

She paused, painfully aware that she sounded like a total idiot,

'Thank you for your message earlier… it was lovely. Anyway… I'm leaving work now. Hope you've had a good day'.

She hung up and sighed loudly. _Well that went well… 'Hope you had a good day'…what was that all about? _He was working on a murder enquiry. It was just like when her mother rang and asked if she'd done anything nice at work. _Oh my god, I'm turning into my mother. _Flinging the phone back into her bag, she turned the ignition, and eased the car out of its space.

* * *

With Hathaway on his way to Pristina, Lewis found himself still at his desk at nine. Things weren't looking great…an embalmed corpse with no name, no clear leads. He sighed deeply and stretched back in his chair. _Laura_. He had listened to her message three times already. He smiled to himself, and picked up the phone again. She answered on the third ring.

"Hello you…"

It was two words, but immediately he relaxed into their new familiarity.

"Hello yourself"

"Still at work?"

"Aye… Still trying to pin a name on that bloke"

"Nothing new?"

"No…. and I'm afraid that I think I'll need to stay late…so…"

"…so no five course dinner for me?"

He could hear her smiling, the way her voice softened a little, acquiring that slightly teasing tone,

"No…I think I'll need to be here for another couple of hours at least."

"That's ok, it's just nice to finally have a chance to talk to you"

He sighed, knowing exactly how she felt,

"I know, pet. I'm sorry"

"Hey, this isn't your fault…we're both in the same boat on that one."

There was a pause, neither wanted the brief exchange to end.

"I guess we just have to approach this like everyone else who meets at work – does Innocent let you take a lunch break?"

* * *

After she put the phone down, Laura had a thought. For a moment she hesitated, wondering if it might be too much, too soon, but decided to throw caution to the wind. Picking up the spare set of keys hanging on the hook and her wallet, she left her house and got in the car.

* * *

When he arrived home, just after midnight, Robbie was surprised to find Monty fast asleep on the sofa. Normally he would be yowling for food when he came back from a late shift, but tonight he seemed very relaxed. As he bent to pick up his food bowl, he noticed a small piece of paper underneath it. In a neat, unmistakable hand,

_He's had his, don't let him tell you otherwise. Yours is in the fridge. I hope you don't mind. Sleep well x_

He smiled and shook his head, struggling to disentangle his amusement at her gesture, from the lump now forming in his throat. When he opened the fridge, he found a steak. On the hob was a frying pan, and in that, in the same delicate hand,

_Turn heat on. When the pan is very hot, open the packet and put steak in pan. 3 mins on each side, don't guess. Microwave chips are in the microwave, put them on once you have the steak in the pan. Do not cook this piece of paper…x_

* * *

Laura was just falling asleep when her phone buzzed with a text,

'Didn't want to wake you, thank you for our dinners. Can we keep you? X'

Sleepily, she placed the phone back down, too tired to think of a witty reply. As she drifted off again, her body finally relaxing, a smile played across her lips.


	3. Chapter 3

Just before 10, Laura Hobson's phone beeped. She was re-examining the stomach cavity of the embalmed corpse, and was quite literally up to her elbows. Cursing under her breath, she completed her checks and it was another twenty minutes before she had stitched up the cavity and cleaned herself up enough to look at her phone.

'Morning beautiful. Did you sleep? Can I bring you coffee?'

She tapped the phone against her lips and smiled, feeling about 17 again. _Get a grip, Hobson. _ As she pulled off her scrubs, she cast a glance over the roster on the wall. She had meeting scheduled at 11 to discuss the lab reports for the week's PMs, then a tutorial at 3 with the new PhD student from the Radcliffe. All in all, it would be a relatively quiet day, and she wouldn't be on call until tomorrow. She walked back into her office and eyed the phone, wondering not for the first time this morning whether to call him. Sighing audibly, not quite ready to make that move, she sat down, opened the laptop, and attempted to read some emails. After five minutes she realised that it was useless trying to pretend to work, and that her only option was to carry out Plan A. She clicked the laptop shut, and slipping on a cardigan, walked back out into the mortuary corridors.

She had woken again at 4am, nauseous and shaking, the coldness of her nightmare chilling her to the bone. As she'd sat in the grey early morning light of her kitchen, nursing a cup of tea, she'd fretted about how they might take their relationship further. Laura had never struggled before in relationships, she was always the confident one who took the lead. Indeed, that had often been the issue. Men found her too demanding, too controlling. But this was Robbie. She couldn't just front it out with him, she cared too much to risk intimidating him. And anyway, she didn't want to be like that with him. He brought out a different, gentler side to her. But how could they move beyond years of easy familiarity into a proper relationship? She was attracted to him, of course, but for years they had deliberately maintained a careful physical distance. Could they just break that down in a simple conversation? Yesterday had been awkward and frustrating. As he'd left the mortuary, she had felt tense and frustrated, and had taken it out on Amy. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't professional. And the longer this went on, the more difficult it might get. She knew she was tired, and she knew that she was overthinking things…but that made no difference. She had to know. She had to know what it felt like, what _he_ felt like. She had to know if he would have second thoughts when the reality of their situation became tangible.

Checking her hair in the small bathroom mirror, she was struck by how tired she looked. These last few months, since Ligeia's death and the horrors of that night, had not been kind to her. Thank god for highlighter and industrial strength concealer. She ran her hand nervously through her hair and tried to muster some confidence. It was now or never, sod the consequences. She took a deep breath and headed off in the direction of CID.

* * *

Sat in his office, Robbie Lewis was still mired in paperwork. The corpse still had no name, and from what he could see from the records he was skimming, no bodies had been reported missing from the local mortuaries. In spite of all that though nothing could wipe the smile off his face this morning. He kept glancing over at his phone nervously. Maybe she hadn't seen it yet? Probably up to her arms in some dead bloke, lucky bastard. As his sniggered at his own joke, there was a light knock at the door.

"Come in"

She stepped in briskly, and carefully shut the door behind her, noiselessly twisting the lock, before turning to face him.

"Laura?"

She smiled nervously, scrutinising his face for any objections and seeing none walked around his desk and perched on the edge, close to where he was sitting.

She looked distracted but was watching him closely. He felt a little unsettled himself by her serious demeanour, but realised that she was clearly thinking hard about what she wanted to say. He put his pen down, and stretching back in his chair, looked up at her,

"Everything ok, Laura?"

She nodded very deliberately, trying to smile, but her eyes serious,

"I've been thinking…"

He took a shallow breath, suddenly feeling serious himself,

"And can I try something?"

His brows furrowed in concern, but he nodded his assent.

To his surprise she carefully leant forward and stroked his face, her thumb smoothing over his lower lip. He didn't flinch, enjoying the warmth of her fingers on his cheek. Her eyes were still serious, and he smiled his reassurance. Slowly, very deliberately, she lowered her face, and closing her eyes, lightly brushed her lips against his. A shiver raced down his spine at the delicate contact, he could feel her breath against his lips. Almost before the kiss had begun though, she slowly moved back to look at him, gauging his reaction, the look of concern never quite leaving her eyes.

"OK?"

Her hand was still resting on his cheek, and he brought his own up to clasp it, pressing a kiss to her palm and smiling broadly. He understood now what she was trying to do, what she was asking him.

"More than ok."

"Good. I've been thinking about doing that since last night."

She smiled shyly, her hand slipping down to rest on his shoulder, and stood up a little,

"Do you still think you'll have time for lunch later?"

He grinned, pleased that he had passed the test she'd set for them, "Yes - usual place?"

She smiled broadly now, holding his gaze, and nodded, her hand still resting gently on his shoulder, adjusting to their new intimacy. Her pager buzzed in her pocket, startling them both slightly.

"Duty calls?"

She extracted the device and read the brief message, her brow furrowing as she processed the contents.

"Hmm...one of the lab reports is back, and it looks like we might have to re-run some of the samples. Looks like something has interfered with the testing...what?"

He was grinning at her inanely.

"It's not funny - now I've got to do it all again!"

Still, he couldn't stop smiling.

"I'm sorry... I'm not laughing at you, pet. It's just this doesn't feel quite real yet..."

She met his eyes, and nodded, not sure what to say. She had known it might be awkward, it was why she wanted to take things slowly with him. To give him a chance, both of them a chance, to adjust to the reality of this.

"I have to get back to the lab"

"I know"

"See you at 1?"

"It's a date"

Suddenly self-conscious, she patted his shoulder affectionately and stood. Turning towards the door, though, she felt his arm sweep around her waist, pulling her back, down onto his lap. She shrieked in surprise as he nuzzled her neck, pressing his lips to her ear,

"Not so fast, young lady, I'm not done with you"

She could barely repress the giggles, all the nervous tension dispelled as he pulled her closer still, twisting her round to face him. They had hugged before, but this felt different. She felt surrounded by him, safe but also exquisitely on edge. He paused for a moment, trying to gauge her reaction to his sudden move, making sure she was comfortable. The ghost of a conversation passed across his memory, a drunk man on a boat, mocking his propriety. It felt like an age ago now.

"Can I kiss you, Laura?"

She smiled, her eyes twinkling, and nodded. This time, as their lips met, she felt his hand run up through the back of her hair, holding her firm. Gone was her carefully calculated restraint, and she relaxed into his kiss, teasing him with her lips, letting actions finally speak louder than her words.

As they broke apart slightly breathless, he kissed her nose and her forehead, carefully, deliberately, before wrapping his arms around her, rubbing her back, soothing her,

"Better?"

She nodded, holding his gaze for a moment, her eyes sparkling, and then she kissed him slowly, luxuriously, her hand sliding up to cup his cheek, needing this closeness. _Finally_. He moaned softly and she felt the breath catch in her throat. Pulling back and looking at him again, she smiled ruefully,

"I have a feeling that I'm not going to be able to concentrate on my work this morning"

The pager buzzed again, and she groaned audibly. "I really need to go, Robbie"

"I know"

He kissed her again, slowly, savouring the moment until his lips tingled with pleasure.

"Robbie…"

He smiled against her lips, and murmured again,

"I know…"

Finally, he broke the kiss, and she found herself laughing.

"What?"

She giggled again, and caressed his cheek,

"I'm sorry…."

"What?"

"I just didn't expect it to be this easy…"

He grinned, kissing the thumb that was caressing his lips,

"What can I say? I'm a cheap date…"

She grinned back, and as her pager buzzed again, pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, and eased herself up from his lap. As she reached the door, her fingers reaching for the handle, she turned. He was grinning broadly again, and she raised her eyebrow questioningly.

"Thanks for dropping by, Laura"

It seemed so ridiculous and yet so appropriate. "My pleasure, Robbie, see you at lunch".


	4. Chapter 4

As he waited outside the café the phone in Robbie's jacket pocket buzzed with a text, 'Running a bit late - can you order me something and I'll be there as quick as I can'. He smiled to himself. Typical Laura, always in demand. He walked up to the long queue by the counter and began to wait. He still hadn't entirely processed the morning's events, but he felt calm and confident that things were moving in the right direction. It was strange, but good. For a long time, Laura had been more than a friend to him, in his own mind at least, and he was pleased that finally he felt able to show her the depth of his feelings. He felt like a teenager again, full of anticipation, but unlike those agonising teenage years, he felt in control. They had been moving this way for a long time, but now that they had crossed some unspoken limit, he couldn't imagine stepping back.

* * *

He ordered their lunch and waited for his coffee to be made. He felt a delicate touch on his fingers, as a small hand slipped into his, just for a moment, before anyone noticed, and then withdrew.

'Hello you'

'Sorry I'm late - we had to reorder the whole run of tests. It took a bit longer than I thought.'

He smiled, bringing his hand to gently rest on her shoulder, rubbing it affectionately,

'I've ordered some lunch, coffee's just coming'

'Shall I get a table?'

As he sauntered off back to the office, leaving her with the bill, Laura Hobson couldn't help but smile. During all their years of working together Robbie Lewis had never once asked her to pay for anything. They were always meticulous in splitting the bill, or he would insist on treating her. But today things were different. He hadn't kissed her again - they had tacitly agreed that this should remain their secret for the moment - but everything felt full of promise. And they had just chatted normally, about work. One of her greatest fears had been that things would change too fast, too much. If asked, she would have said it was because she didn't want to rush him in their new relationship, but in truth she was just as wary of her own feelings. She couldn't bear the thought that he might retreat back into his earlier caution. Her phone buzzed,

"Sorry to abandon you – can I buy you dinner tonight?"

She sighed, as reality once again caught up with them, and quickly sent a reply,

'I'm sorry, rehearsal tonight, last one before concert next week, really can't miss it. But let's talk later?'

* * *

As he wandered out of the back rooms of the crematorium, Lewis found himself strolling amongst the memorials. When was it that he'd last come to visit Val? For a moment, he couldn't remember. Somehow it felt less important to visit her grave now. Not that she really left his thoughts, he remembered her at least five minutes of every day, but things were getting easier. She would want him to move on, he knew that. And for the first time, he felt entirely at ease with that thought.

For too many months he'd tried to convince himself that he was the wrong man for Laura. Even Hathaway had begun to cotton on to it, winding him up, trying his patience. He couldn't pretend that the nudging encouragement hadn't made him think harder about his feelings, but also made him feel self-conscious. He wasn't a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, and the last thing he wanted was to make a fool out of himself. Over the last few months, though, he'd begun to wonder. And as the weeks passed, those wonderings had turned into hopes. They would be good together, him and Laura. They would have fun. She made him laugh, and she made him feel needed. He was ready for this, and he hoped that she was too.

* * *

As Laura eased the sections of her clarinet apart, carefully wiping them and replacing them in the crushed velvet case, she wondered whether Robbie would still be at work. She was tired, the rehearsal had been long, and she definitely had a full schedule the next day, but she couldn't resist the idea of seeing him. All day she had been imagining his lips on hers, his arms around her. It was crazy, she had known him for all these years, and yes, she'd certainly imagined kissing him, usually after too much wine…but now she had finally done it, she couldn't stop thinking about doing it again. The room was beginning to empty, and after a few brief goodbyes, she packed up her score and shrugging on her leather jacket, headed out to her car. Laura was rarely impetuous, but she wasn't afraid to take a chance, and this evening was no different.

The traffic was light, and it wasn't long before she arrived in the almost deserted car park. She put her clarinet in the boot and locked the car – it was probably overkill, but it would be sod's law for her car to get broken into in the station car park. Not for the first time, Laura appreciated the fact that the station security operated on swipe cards out of hours. Usually she worked later than she cared to admit, but tonight, for the first time, she wanted to avoid attention not because she was afraid of seeming dull, but because she was doing something far more interesting. Mercifully, the corridors were all but empty, and the few sergeants she did encounter were not familiar.

As she reached the end of the corridor and the office that he shared with Hathaway, though, Laura realised that the room was shrouded in darkness. He wasn't there. Her hand rested on the steel door knob, its cold weight in her palm. Why did I assume he'd be here? She checked her watch, and sighing loudly began to retrace her steps. Sergeant James shuffled passed her in the corridor, nodding a brief 'Good evening', and she tried to raise a half-hearted smile. What now? For a moment she wondered whether she might drop by his house, but quickly dismissed it. Last night had been amusing and, she hoped, well-received, but she couldn't just turn up at his flat uninvited. As confident as she was trying to be, she couldn't shake off the feeling that he had decided to have some time alone. But why did he say he was working?

Sitting back in her car, Laura decided to pull herself together, and to see the situation how it really was. He had asked her to dinner, she had said she was busy, and then he had clearly decided to do something else. It wasn't a problem, and she didn't need to overreact. But she was disappointed, and that feeling, at least where Robbie was concerned, was a new one.

* * *

The football game had finished, and, yawning loudly, Lewis was beginning to think about heading to his bed. He'd ended the day early enough, and after a quick trip around the supermarket, he'd enjoyed a quiet night in with the Champions' League and a couple of cans. He was tired, but contented. The investigation was beginning to open up, and some leads had been established. But most of all, he had kissed Laura. Not once, but at least four times. He grinned widely, recalling the softness of her lips against his. Unbelievable. She was so beautiful, so self-assured, but she needed him, wanted him. It was a shame they hadn't managed dinner, but there would be other nights. Maybe tomorrow night? He smiled again, and hauling himself off the sofa, flicked off the tv.

Drawing the curtains, and sliding in under the duvet, he wondered if he might call her. It was late, but not that late for them. She would be tired after her orchestra practice, but she had mentioned that they might speak later. He toyed with the phone in his hand, caught between wanting to hear her voice, but not wanting to wake her if she was already asleep. Opting for caution, he keyed in a message,

'Why do I miss you, even though I see you every day? Dinner tomorrow? Sweet dreams, Rx'


	5. Chapter 5

As the sun began to rise, Laura was already awake and plodding through her emails. She knew that working in bed was a terrible habit, but one of the few perks of her relentless insomnia was clearing her emails before breakfast. Not that she actually ate breakfast very often, but never mind. For once, she had slept quite well, a busy day and some chamomile tea had meant she had fallen asleep quickly. But, of course, she had been woken again by nightmares. She sighed audibly, and tried to relax back into the large pile of pillows, knowing full well that the headache that was forming behind her eyes would only be relieved by a decent dose of painkillers and another strong coffee.

She hit send on the last of the emails, and checked the weather for the weekend. She'd promised Ellen that she would visit her in Suffolk, and although a part of her wondered if she should stay and try to spend some time with Robbie, she was well aware that the case might take up much of his weekend. Whatever this relationship was, or might be, it would only work if they both accepted the complexity of their lives. Last night had shown her that. She couldn't just expect him to be waiting on her doorstep, or keeping her bed warm. They both had busy lives and demanding, unsociable jobs and she needed to keep things in perspective. He was sweet, and kind, and there was certainly an attraction between them, but she had forced his hand the other night, and she knew he would be cautious. She hoped he hadn't gone out drinking last night, and yet simultaneously scolded herself for even thinking it. She couldn't let herself fall too hard, not until she knew how he felt. Not until she really knew how she felt.

The sound of her next door neighbour reversing his car out of the drive prompted her to look at the clock. _Just gone seven…time to get going._ As she gathered her clothes and a fresh towel, she noticed that her phone had switched off again, bloody thing. She was awful at charging it, especially when she wasn't on call, and it was always running out. She plugged it in quickly, and headed off to the shower.

* * *

The traffic into Oxford, while never good, was particularly awful this morning. A few new sets of roadworks, and a faulty traffic light system meant that Laura was still in her car at ten past nine. She crept forward another few yards, and then paused again, pulling on the handbrake and easing out of gear. _Typical_. She had two more reports to finish before lunchtime, and a seminar at 4. Today was already looking like it might be a late night…

The phone in her bag began to vibrate. Eyeing the traffic cautiously and deciding she wouldn't be going anywhere fast, she fished it out of the bag and without checking the ID answered,

"Hobson"

"Morning Laura, it's me"

In spite of all her earlier attempts at considering their relationship sensibly and rationally, her breath caught in her throat as she heard his familiar voice.

"Hi stranger, everything ok?"

"That kinda depends on who you're asking… I'm fine, but we've just had a call in from the Green Park Surgery and one of the doctors seems to have had a really bad morning"

She smiled to herself, knowing full well now why he was calling,

"Robbie, are you making fun of the dead?"

He laughed, and had the decency to sound a little contrite,

"Maybe…"

"And you want me to come and take a look?"

"Of course. You'll no doubt be getting the call through in a bit, but I just wanted to give you a head's up…and to take the opportunity to tell you in advance how beautiful you look today, just in case I don't have the chance later."

Now it was her turn to laugh,

"You have no idea what I look like this morning, you charmer. I might very well be wearing yesterday's makeup and an old tracksuit!"

"And I contend that you would still look beautiful, so categorically I'm right."

"Hmmm. Then I accept your compliment and we'll discuss this later. I'm in traffic at the moment…where did you say the surgery is? Might be better if I just head there now…"

"On a mobile phone while driving, Dr Hobson? You do realise that's a bookable offense…"

"Technically I'm sat in a very stationary queue…"

"Fair enough, I'll let you off this time."

"Why thank you officer…"

"That would be Detective Inspector, and it's 30 Cavendish Street. I'll be there in about an hour."

There was a pause, neither wanting to hang up,

"I have to go now Robbie, seems like we're finally moving"

"See you in a bit, pet"

As she disconnected the call, she noticed that she had a text message waiting. It must have come in overnight. The cars in front once again began to bunch, and soon they were stationary again. She reached for her phone again and opened the message. _Robbie_. It must have arrived last night when her phone was off. _Oh God._ As she read his simple words, she felt a lump rise in her throat, and to her horror tears pricked at her eyes. She blinked a couple of times, and putting the phone back in her bag, tried to concentrate on the traffic, which was moving again. _Why am I upset?_ Carefully wiping her thumb under her eye, she checked her makeup in the rear view mirror. _You know why._ She had gone to bed desperately trying to be realistic about their relationship, trying to protect herself. She had felt disappointed and frustrated, for wanting too much, too soon. For overthinking things. And all she had needed to do was trust him. To listen to exactly what he had said. He wanted to be with her, and it was, just maybe, that simple. She wouldn't cry, not on the way to a crime scene. She took a deep breath, and tried to regroup. _Everything is fine…he wants this as much as you do._ She shivered, the relief almost tangible.

* * *

In the end, it was Lewis who arrived first at the crime scene, and as she bustled in with her kit, he let her concentrate on the task at hand. He couldn't, however, resist a quick jibe about it all being her fault that they had another mess to investigate. After a quick exchange, he decided to leave her to it - it was too distracting simply to stand there watching her work - and besides, he needed to start collecting statements.

* * *

He was nearly finished at the scene, and with the Faulkner lead looking strong, he knew he'd need to get cracking on the follow-up down at the station. Innocent would certainly want a full debrief, and given the Faulkner links, he knew she wouldn't be letting him loose without a proper outline of his lines of inquiry. Throwing a cautious glance at the lad, who was deep in conversation with one of the receptionists, Lewis stepped into the deceased's office and quietly pushed the door to.

"I'm off now, pet"

She smiled distractedly, and nodded, as she gathered the pills from the desk and finished the final residue swabs from the woodwork. The body was bagged and, although the room would be sealed for another day or two, she was almost finished too. He stepped closer, and brought his hand down gently on her shoulder, immediately starting to rub the tension out of the muscle.

"Everything ok, Laura?"

She straightened up, and smiled, their eyes meeting. She glanced quickly at the door, and seeing it pushed to, she visibly relaxed, and nodded slightly.

"I'm fine, just tired"

He smiled sympathetically, and brought his hand to her cheek, his thumb lightly stroking her. As her face tilted up, he was sure that he could see tears in her eyes, but he didn't say anything. Instead he pressed a firm kiss, first to her lips, then her forehead, before wrapping his arm around her, his hand caressing her back.

"Now who needs a restraining order….?"

He grinned, kissing her again,

"Have dinner with me?"

* * *

In the end, 'dinner' turned out to be a quick coffee and a sandwich in a cafe round the corner from the station. He had Innocent breathing down his neck to keep the momentum going, and she desperately needed a few extra hours to finish a report for the coroner. The cafe was quiet, and although they were nothing but professional in their demeanor, Robbie and Laura were both happy not to have an audience. They chatted about the case, and about Hathaway. She talked about her trip to Suffolk, and noted the slightly disappointed look in his eye; he mentioned that once this case was finished, he'd have a lot of overtime owed. Nothing concrete, just a subtle mention. An elderly lady on an adjacent table needed to use the bathroom, and Robbie had shifted his chair closer to Laura's, his leg brushing up against hers, to allow the lady to pass. As he'd moved to shift back he felt her delicate hand on his thigh, stilling his movement. They exchanged a shy smile, and returned to their food.

The time passed quickly, and before they knew it, it was 6.30 and the cafe was closing. They both needed to be somewhere else, but they lingered nonetheless. He helped her on with her jacket and insisted on paying the bill, much to her amusement. As she stepped towards the door, it suddenly opened, as a stressed student barreled in, keen to grab a coffee before the place shut. Laura stepped quickly backwards, and was soon flush against Robbie's chest. His arm quickly wrapped around her, steadying her, holding her firm against him, his own body's reaction unmistakable. The lad apologised profusely for nearly knocking her over, and with a cheeky smile headed for the counter. Robbie released his grip, suddenly acutely aware of his predicament, and Laura stepped forward slowly, reaching again for the door. A small smile played across her lips, and she casually looked over her shoulder, catching his embarrassed eye,

"Come on you…back to work"

As they walked the few streets back to the station, a quiet awkwardness descended between them. There was something about being out in public that made it harder to be relaxed. Not for the first time, Laura wondered if they would really be able to do this. It wasn't that it was inappropriate for them to have a relationship…just that people would notice, and people would talk. Not that she particularly cared, but maybe he did. For all their playfulness and affection, she still didn't know what he really wanted from this relationship. They had fallen into step, and, as their arms swung alongside each other, she wanted desperately to take hold of his hand. But she couldn't. And it was distracting her beyond belief.

"Look Laura, I'm sorry about that…"

She was wrenched from her own thoughts so suddenly that she actually stopped and looked straight at him, her face clouded with confusion,

"Sorry about what?"

He grimaced, and ran his hand nervously over his forehead,

"…man-handling you like that"

For a moment she was genuinely confused, her mind was so caught up in the frustration of the present situation. But as the penny dropped, she found herself trying not to smirk. He looked so guilty, and so concerned that he might have upset her, and for a man of few words, he was really trying his best to apologise,

"…I know you want to take this slowly, and grabbing you like that was just inappropriate"

She bit her lip, her hand coming to rest on his chest, trying to still his words. A quick glance around reassured her that no one was indeed watching, and fixing him with a glare, she grabbed his wrist. She knew the street well, and in a couple of steps, she dragged him into a small alleyway, just behind a bicycle repair shop. The occupants had long packed up for the night, and the street was practically deserted.

He had barely had a chance to catch his breath when he felt her firm hands pushing him back against the wall, her lips curling with a smile, and her eyes burning with a desire he had only seen in movies. Her hand snaked up to cup his face, and she reached up, her body flush against him, and whispered in his ear,

"Firstly, _this_ is being manhandled…and secondly, I've been wanting to do this for days"

Her breath was hot against his ear, and he actually shivered. Slowly, she kissed her way from his ear to his cheek, before capturing his lips in a searing kiss. His arms slid around her body, pulling her closer to him, as he returned the kiss without hesitation. For a few precious moments, they were lost in their own world, entirely focused upon each other.

The clattering noise of a skateboard and raised voices roused them from their embrace, and they separated, Laura stepping back slightly. He cupped her cheek, kissing her lips gently, teasingly. They shared a slightly embarrassed smile. He thought she might actually be blushing,

"Are you always like this, woman?"

She had the decency to look slightly sheepish, before fixing him with a sultry smile,

"I have my moments"

He smiled broadly, pulling her to him in a final bear hug, his chin resting on her head,

"I'll say… Not that I'm complaining, of course"

She pressed a kiss to his shirt, reveling in the warmth of his skin, not wanting to go,

"We should get back to work…"

"I know."

"Will it be a late one for you?"

"Mmm…we're starting to pull some threads together. What time's the PM tomorrow?"

"I've scheduled him for first thing…do you still think it's not going to be suicide?"

Her face was firmly pressed against his chest, and not for the first time, he was momentarily distracted by how natural it felt to hold her,

"I don't know…it just doesn't seem quite right. We'll know more tomorrow."

They were still unobserved, but the cautious side of Laura's personality was beginning to win and she pulled back, and began to smooth down her hair self-consciously. He smiled knowingly, reaching out to remove a non-existent smudge from her cheek,

"You look beautiful"

She blushed again, and straightened his jacket,

"Come on then, back to the grind"


	6. Chapter 6

It was just coming up to seven, and Laura was pottering in her kitchen. The doors out to her garden were thrown open, and the soft evening sunlight was streaming into the room. For the first time in days, weeks maybe, she felt completely and utterly relaxed. She had finished her shopping quickly, and had even managed to fit in a quick run before showering and starting the dinner preparations. Summer had lasted longer this year, and the leaves were only just starting to turn golden. She loved this change of the seasons, when the evenings took on warm glow, and the mist would hang over the fields in the morning, and she felt entirely at peace with the world.

As she adjusted the oven to the correct temperature, and set the timer, her phone buzzed. Glancing at the display, she smiled,

"Robbie?"

"The very same…"

"Everything ok?"

He smiled to himself, amused how she always asked him that. _How could he be anything but ok?_

"Absolutely perfect. Just wanted to say hello"

He heard her smile against the phone, the soft intake of breath,

"Any progress?"

"Yes and no. There's definitely more to this than meets the eye. Innocent thinks I'm shooting in the dark, but I'm certain there's something that connects Mr Strickley with the doctor. I know it's a pain to rush it through, but I'm sure you'll find something…"

"It's not a pain, Robbie, it's my job"

"I know, but I know you're busy"

"I'm always busy"

"Haha, I know the feeling… So what are your plans for this evening?"

She balanced the phone under her chin and opened the oven door slightly,

"I'm cooking dinner"

"What are you cooking?"

"Not something that you'd be interested in, I fear"

"Try me"

"Salmon fillet, minted peas and new potatoes"

"Hmm…sounds like posh fish and chips, to me. And there you are, always telling me off for eating junk…"

"Did you eat yet?"

"No, I'll grab something when I get home. I went shopping yesterday so plenty to choose from"

"I'd invite you to join me, but I'm expecting company…in fact, he'll be here in a couple of minutes"

"Really?"

"Hey, don't sound so surprised, I do have friends, you know…"

"I'm not surprised…I'm just curious…and a bit jealous. Is he as good-looking as me?"

"He's 83…I'll let you work that one out for yourself."

"Hmm….competition. Now I'm concerned. You do seem to have an eye for the older gent…"

"Indeed….then it's just as well that this one is not only old enough to be my father…but actually _is_ my father"

He smiled to himself, shaking off the usual feeling of concern he got when Laura mentioned a date. He didn't need to worry any more.

"How is he? I remember you saying he had an operation last year…"

"So you were listening?"

"I always listen to you, Laura."

"He's fine. Just a bit lonely since Mum died. I don't see him as often as I should really, but he likes to be independent."

"Is he still living in Banbury?"

"Yes, manages everything on his own still…as often as not it's me heading over to his for dinner…he's a far better cook than me!"

"Ah, gettaway, I can't believe that…"

"You've never tasted my cooking, Robbie"

There was a slight pause, as both of them realised the obvious route the conversation was taking.

"No, but I'd like to sometime…"

He heard a beeper going off somewhere in Laura's kitchen,

"How about next week sometime? I'm away until Monday, but after that I'm free. When are you on shift?"

"On this weekend, then off until Wednesday. You?"

"Well, I'm on call from Monday afternoon, but at the risk of tempting fate, evening calls rarely happen"

He was suddenly nervous, wondering exactly what it was he was asking, "So Monday night would work for you?"

"Yes. But I'll see you tomorrow, won't I?"

He grinned, relaxing back into their playful banter,

"If you're a good girl and find me a nice bit of murderous intent…"

* * *

Lewis was sat in his office the next morning, contemplating how lucky he was to have met two such amazing women. He very rarely did self-congratulation, but gazing at the picture of Val on his shelf, and thinking about Laura, he gave silent thanks for his good fortune. They were so entirely different, and perfect in their own ways. Val would've liked Laura - she _did_ like Laura. That helped somehow, made it easier to move on. He'd never truly felt guilty about loving Laura, but he had struggled with the guilt of carrying on. Of living without Val…living when she could not. But time had passed, as it always did, and as he felt the years of his own life slip past him he'd realised that he didn't need to wait any more. He was alive.

He glanced at the clock, and shaking himself from his reverie he began to prepare himself for the morning's interviews. As he stepped out of his office, he almost collided with Laura. Instinct very nearly took over, his hand automatically seeking her hip, but he managed to stop himself reaching out to her.

"I'm not going to make you a happy man"

He smiled, noting the mischievous twinkle in her eye...oh the many responses he could give to that...

"I'm always happy, my face is misleading"

As she reeled off the various details, in full flow, his eyes lingered on her face. She was so beautiful when she talked. So animated, so...

"I don't like to pester you, but if you could just..."

"Hurry it up? Don't push it."

He grinned, enjoying their easy banter which now held an added frisson. He could remember the feel of her lips on his, her warm breath against his ear. But he was late, and he needed to get to the interview room.

* * *

As he turned the corner, he realised the corridor was empty and he was alone. He quickly found her number and dialled. She answered on the second ring,

"Don't say anything, I have to conduct an interview in one minute: but I just wanted to say, you have already made me a very happy man, and I promise to buy you dinner - a proper dinner - very soon."

He hung up before she could say anything, and strode into the interview room, confident and relaxed.


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry this is a) very short and b) late... Main problem was that I actually had to dig out my DVD and capture some dialogue! I have tons more of this already written though, so more substantial chapter coming very soon. I just needed to get this little segment out of the way before I could move onto the more creative bits! Many thanks for all the feedback - really really appreciated :)_

* * *

As he walked in the autumn sunshine between the clipped lawns, Lewis felt the tension at the back of his neck starting to ease. Not only could he begin to see a way into the tangle of evidence that had been gradually winding itself tighter with each passing day, but he could also see Laura striding towards him. He smiled warmly, and unconsciously quickened his step.

"I've found your ante-mortem bruising on Dr Whitby."

She pressed on, the soft weight of her hands now caressing his shoulders,

"Two areas of pressure, either side of the neck, whilst he was sitting, probably too drunk to get off or fight them off, because the bruising was pretty light."

He was studying her intently, her bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement, and then she looked down, suddenly acutely aware that they were out in public, that her hands were stroking his shoulders, that his lips were tantalizingly close. She quickly withdrew her hands, shrugged her jacket sleeves down, ridiculously embarrassed, both at her forwardness, and her overreaction to it,

"Final toxicology report nothing new, same as before, drunk, stomach awash with whisky and undigested pills…"

His brow creased a little as he observed her withdrawing into herself. _Maybe I should have expected this._ Sneaking a cheeky snog behind the bike sheds was one thing…but this seemed to be quite another. For a moment he hesitated, wondering if he should say something, do something, but decided not to push it. He gestured for her to turn and walk with him.

Again, a moment's awkwardness, and he saw her shoulders tense. But then she turned and fell into step. He smiled to himself, again wondering if he should touch her, but deciding against it. _There would be time later._ And so he pressed on with the discussion of the case.

* * *

"Never mind, there's a lad who wants to tell me something…maybe he's gonna wrap up all the answers for us nice and neat"

Finally she grinned, the earlier tension in her face beginning to dissipate. _He knew how to do that so well._ To relax her without her realising it. They were reaching the end of the park, and soon they would need to go their separate ways, but for the moment she was enjoying the fresh air and his cheerful company.

"Hmm…I suppose"

He grinned back, pleased to see that she was laughing at him,

"Are you doubting my powers of interrogation, Dr Hobson?"

She shook her head slightly, but the playful sparkle in her eye dared him to think otherwise,

"Wouldn't dream of it…"

His phone beeped with a text, and extracting it and glancing quickly at the message he groaned.

"Innocent?"

He smirked, and flashed her a wicked glance,

"Not something I'm used to being called…"

She shook her head again, sighing exaggeratedly, waiting for him to answer her properly.

He looked suitably contrite,

"Yes…more instructions, I'm afraid. I need to get a move on."

She smiled again, the shyness creeping back a little,

"It's ok, I've got a tutorial in 10 mins with one of the new students from the Radcliffe."

He nodded, and slipped the phone back in his pocket, his hands dropping a little awkwardly at his sides. She held his gaze for a moment, but then looked quickly down, biting her lip, folding her arms across her chest.

"Laura…"

His voice was soft, and his tone caught her off-guard. She was annoyed, with the situation, with herself, and her eyes were almost defiant as she looked at him.

"I don't mind who sees us, Laura...you know that, don't you?"

Her expression softened slightly, and she took a deep breath, composing herself,

"I just thought...you know...until..."

He smiled, finally taking her hand in his,

"Until what, Laura?"

She gazed at him, her blue eyes wide, a small smile gracing her lips,

"Until you were really sure..."

"I am sure."

He softened his grip on her hand, stroking her fingers, and Laura smiled more confidently. He wouldn't kiss her yet. _Small steps…_

"Meet me later, once I've finished my interviews?

"Of course, call me once you're done. My tutorial is at St Peter's, and I'll be done by 5.30. Maybe we could get a curry..."

He grinned, pressing a quick but deliberate kiss to her forehead,

"I always knew I liked, you, Dr Hobson"


	8. Chapter 8

It was nearly seven by the time Lewis had a moment to sit down. The afternoon had been a bit of a blur, from the shock of the poor lad on that slab in the mortuary, to the quick dash to the hospital to check on him. The signs were good, and although still unconscious, it looked like no serious harm had been done. _Thank god he'd not been any later. _His stomach rumbled, and he sighed. No dinner with the lovely Laura tonight after all. He'd tried her phone a few times, only to find it went straight to voicemail. He wasn't worried though…in their line of work, something could always come up, and if she was out in the field she probably wouldn't answer her phone.

* * *

By eight, Laura was completing her final survey of the young woman on her slab. The call had come through just after 5, cutting her tutorial short. An RTA, nothing suspicious, but requiring the necessary nonetheless. She sighed, her shoulders beginning to protest at the awkward angles required to inspect the chest cavity. She eyed the clock ruefully…no romantic dinner tonight. She'd tried his phone earlier, but it seemed like his network was down. It was ok, though, he'd understand.

* * *

She'd just begun to clean up when Peterson strode into the mortuary, and she tried not to look too displeased to see him. It had been another long day, and she still had to write this one up before leaving.

"Hi Laura…sorry to interrupt"

He grinned boyishly, clearly not caring at all that he might be interrupting,

"Just wondered if you'd had a chance to look at the toxicology report for the Samuels kid?"

She dried her hands carefully,

"I'm afraid the results aren't back yet…won't be for another couple of days, at a guess"

He'd asked before, and she distinctly remembered having explained how the various tests would need an appropriate amount of time. With a small sigh, she realised that, once again, he wasn't here to talk about test results.

"Oh well…never mind."

He grinned again, and she smiled deliberately, the warmth never quite reaching her eyes.

"Any plans for tonight, Laura?"

_Here we go again…_

She smiled tightly, and nodded,

"Mmm…yes, once I manage to get home"

To be fair, he looked a little crestfallen,

"Ah, ok. I was wondering if you might be free at the weekend then?"

Placing the towel carefully back on the rail, she considered her words,

"Sorry Alan, but I'm in Suffolk all weekend, visiting a friend"

She kept it deliberately light, pleased that it was the simple truth and not a quickly invented excuse.

Again he looked disappointed, and paused for a moment, obviously trying to decide what to say. Then he stepped towards her, his hand coming to gently grasp her arm,

"Laura…"

The insistent ringing of her phone on the shelf behind her interrupted him before she could. She turned away from him, suddenly a little uncomfortable at his proximity, and grasping the phone, pressed accept,

"Robbie…"

Peterson instantly heard the softness in her voice, and the smile which was clearly spreading across her face. Unconsciously he stepped back slightly. He couldn't hear what Lewis was saying, but he couldn't deny the way Laura was reacting.

"Hmm…yes, still here I'm afraid, traffic accident. But I'm just about finished now…. God, really? Is he ok?….Good thing you got there so soon….OK. No that's fine…have you eaten yet? Good…"

She had turned to face him now, her back resting against the table. She looked at ease, her eyes were sparkling with mischief. _Robbie Lewis, you jammy bastard._ He couldn't be sure, not really. But whatever was going on, Laura was clearly interested. She must have seen the look on his face, and the quick thought he'd had to leave, because she gestured for him to wait a moment. Intrigued, he perched on a chair.

"Listen, I need to go Robbie…mmm….no, you caught me in the middle of a conversation with Peterson…" She laughed loudly, and he dreaded to think what Lewis had just said. "I promise….about ten? I will…"

As she ended the call, Peterson noticed how she bit her lip, how her shoulders became a little tenser, and the steeliness returned to her eyes as she looked up at him. She was waiting for him to say something.

"So…you and Lewis."

It was more of a statement than a question, but she nodded. There was a hint of defiance in her eyes, and he knew better than to say any more.

For a moment Laura wondered if she'd done the right thing. She waited for the dread to fill her…but it didn't. It felt good to tell someone. And it felt even better to tell Peterson.

"Yes. For quite a while."

He nodded, and attempted a faint smile. She stepped forward slightly, and rubbed his elbow affectionately,

"Friends?"

He grinned, and nodded more confidently.

"Good"

* * *

After Peterson had left, Laura spent another hour writing up her notes, and then headed home. It was nearly nine thirty when she pulled up outside her house. As she closed the heavy oak door behind her, she noticed an envelope on the mat. Turning it over in her hands, she smiled, immediately recognising the handwriting. _Robbie_.

Once in the kitchen, her bags deposited on the table, she opened the envelope. It was a simple card, with a large cat on the front…wearing a police uniform. She raised an eyebrow, and opened it, almost dissolving into laughter as she read…

_Ten Reasons why you shouldn't fancy Action Man_

_1\. He will take at least an hour in the bathroom every morning._

_2\. Did you see his goatee?_

_3\. He works even more night shifts than I do._

_4\. He thinks lectures are appropriate dates._

_5\. He doesn't know how to make a fry up properly._

_6\. He supports Man Utd._

_7\. Hathaway would never let you live it down._

_8\. He probably has at least three psycho exes who would stalk you._

_9\. He likes Genesis._

_10\. He's rubbish at driving fast._

_Love, Robbie x_


	9. Chapter 9

It was another early start for Lewis and he was driving to the hospital. The traffic was bad, as always, and before long he found himself in a queue. The threads of the case were still refusing to weave together, and the assault on the boy had made things more complicated, not less so. If the lad was up to talking, then maybe some headway could be made, but from the state he had been the previous night, Lewis suspected they would keep him sedated for most of the day. The lights changed and the line moved forward a few metres. Gradually, they sped up, and he concentrated on the traffic ahead. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and smiled to himself. Laura. He didn't even have to guess. Only she would text him at 7.30am.

They'd spoken on the phone late the previous night, and talked about the case. She knew he was getting stressed, and had quickly realised that talking through the various lines of enquiry would help him to relax. She was convinced that the mortuary was at the centre of it, whatever _it_ was, and the more he thought about it, the more he agreed with her. In the end, he hadn't even asked her about Peterson. It just didn't seem relevant any more. She hadn't mentioned the card, and they'd quickly fallen into other topics of conversation. Tonight he was determined to see her, even if it was only for an hour or two. He missed the closeness they had enjoyed, he missed _her_.

As the traffic slowed to a halt again at the next set of lights, he extracted his phone and read. It was a short message for Laura, but it told him everything he needed to know:

"You forgot number 11. He's not you. Dinner?"

He tapped out a reply quickly and pressed send,

"Yes, pet. I'll call you later. x"

* * *

For once, their timetables had aligned, and they had managed to meet just outside the Ashmolean. Walking through the colleges, down to the river, they chatted about the case again. As they reached a fence at the top of a steep section of the bank, Laura hesitated. Clambering over easily, Robbie held out a hand. It was so easy, so natural. Guiding her down the steep slope he beamed at her, laughing as they swung round. She glanced down at their joined hands, still not quite believing how close they had become over the past few days. No, they weren't entirely in step yet, but it didn't seem to matter, they were walking in the same direction.

* * *

The cloud of smoke was unmistakable in its significance, and in a single, horrible moment, she knew exactly what he was about to do. She almost cried out for him to stop, but she couldn't, and shouted out a warning instead. In a few short strides he was at the boat, inside the boat. She blinked furiously, her eyes filling with tears, she couldn't see him.

As she fumbled with her phone, trying to speak clearly to the operator, she never took her eyes off the boat. It was all taking too long. She ran towards the smoke, not sure whether she could follow him in, not sure whether she could bear to wait.

Finally, the hatch opened, and he crashed through, carrying the body of a girl, and she breathed again.

* * *

The fire crew was on the scene within minutes, an ambulance following swiftly after. As soon as Robbie had hauled the girl away from the burning boat, Laura had switched into professional mode. _Airway clear, still breathing, pulse good...smoke inhalation, nothing serious, no head wounds, pupils fine._ Kneeling on the towpath, she moved the girl into the recovery position and gently rubbed her back, soothing her. When the ambulance crew took over, she glanced around quickly, taking stock. Robbie was talking on the phone, no doubt rallying the troops. He had his back to her, and was in full flow. More sirens approached, and as the fire crew set about extinguishing the flames several squad cars arrived on the road above. He was still talking. Her hands had started to shake a little, as the adrenaline caught up with events. She was tired from an exhausting week and poor sleep, and was well aware how quickly she might find herself mid panic attack if she didn't relax. It wasn't something which happened to her often, but she knew the triggers all too well. And it didn't exactly help that she had skipped both breakfast and lunch.

Nodding to the ambulance crew, she stepped back, and carefully walked a few yards down the tow path to an empty bench. She couldn't leave, not least because a statement might be needed, but she didn't exactly want to stay. Fight or flight was well and truly upon her, and she just wanted to run. Robbie was still talking on the phone, doing his job. She felt sick and dizzy, and so dipped her head forward, between her knees, concentrating on keeping her breathing controlled.

* * *

Jean Innocent was at the scene within ten minutes. She wouldn't normally have bothered, but when Lewis mentioned that he'd been pulling women out of burning boats, she had decided that a calm head might be needed. As she hauled herself over the fence and down the bank, cursing her heels as she did so, she passed Laura Hobson sat on a bench, looking decidedly green.

"OK Laura?"

The doctor looked a little confused, but smiled back quickly,

"Fine, just getting my breath back"

Unconvinced, but prioritising the situation, Innocent nodded and marched up to where Lewis was quizzing the ambulance crew.

"Everything in hand Lewis?"

"Yes ma'am, fire almost out, girl being treated for smoke inhalation, but otherwise should be fine."

"Am I going to have to give you a medal for rescuing damsels in distress?"

He smiled, not missing the heavy dose of sarcasm in her voice.

"All in a day's work, ma'am"

"Well, we'll need witness statements, I want the girl speaking to asap, and you'll need a check-up yourself."

He nodded, directing a couple of sergeants towards the fire crew.

"When did Hobson turn up? Not like her to chase after the living..."

_Laura_... He glanced quickly over Innocent's shoulder, and seeing her sat on a bench nearby, visibly relaxed,

"She was with me, ma'am...we were taking a walk"

Jean raised an eyebrow, but decided not to say anything.

"Well, she looks bloody awful...maybe you could go and have a word?"

He nodded quickly and ran his hand nervously through his hair,

"I'll head to the hospital now, try to speak with the girl as soon as she's been checked over, then will plough through as many statements as possible, here on the river bank. Andrews and Martin are getting the names of the boat owners and the…"

Jean fixed him with a glare, and decided to sod the consequences for once,

"You do know she's in love with you, don't you?"

He swallowed visibly, not daring to break eye contact, both of them knowing he didn't have to ask about whom she was speaking. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Then maybe it's time you just sort all this out..."

He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off,

"Just get on with it Lewis, I can handle this lot".


	10. Chapter 10

As Lewis walked towards Laura, he slipped his jacket from his shoulders. Wrapping it around her, he sat down carefully next to her on the bench. She smiled weakly, her cold fingers pulling the jacket closer around her neck,

"Sorry, I'm being pathetic"

He shook his head, and lightly smoothed his hand over her back,

"Not at all. If you want to see pathetic, you should give me a scalpel and put me in front of a body"

She grinned, momentarily imagining the incongruous sight, and shivered noticeably,

"Wouldn't be as funny as watching Morse trying not to be sick as I listed the stomach contents…"

He chuckled,

"You are a cruel woman, Laura Hobson…"

Her eyes twinkled, and he felt her relax her shoulders a little.

"Is your car back at the station?"

She nodded, her gaze still fixed on the river, the clouds of smoke drifting out over the city.

"Though to be honest, I'm not sure I want to walk all the way back there, to then drive home. It'll only take me ten minutes to walk home from here."

He reached over, and pulled his phone out of the inside pocket of his jacket, his hand gently brushing up against the curve of her body. They exchanged a shy smile. He pressed the side button, and checked the display,

"It's nearly six thirty… How are you feeling?"

She ran her hand through her hair, the adrenaline hit finally beginning to dissipate,

"I'm ok. Just a bit edgy. I'm just over-tired." She sighed, rubbing some warmth back into her arms. "I probably should eat something, I didn't have lunch. But what I really need is a run, a hot bath, and about three pots of tea."

He edged a little closer, his gaze also innocently fixed on the smoke, moving near enough to whisper in her ear,

"Well, the tea I could certainly provide, the bath…I would certainly like to help with…the run…hmm...sorry, not my forte, you'll have to do that by yourself"

She tilted her head towards him, the blush rising on her cheeks, and she smiled at his deliberately innocent far-off stare,

"I might just hold you to that, Robbie..."

He smiled, pleasantly surprised how easy it was to be confident around her, turned, and pressed a small kiss to her temple.

"…but this evening I think I need a few hours to myself."

His face fell slightly, but he smiled and nodded, understanding her need for space.

She took his hand, clasping it between her own, stroking his fingers,

"Is that ok?"

He nodded again, holding her gaze, making sure that she really was fine.

"I just need a hot bath, a glass of wine, and some time alone to let my brain catch up with all this"

He smiled again, his eyes sparkling mischievously at the image her words conjured,

"Don't even say it, Robbie Lewis…"

"Hey…I'm a gentleman."

She grinned warmly, and looked down at their clasped hands,

"Yes you are"

"Walk you home?"

She caught his gaze again, and nodded her assent.

* * *

As Innocent watched them walk away together, Lewis's jacket still draped around Hobson's shoulders, their joined hands just visible under the long sleeve, she wondered not for the first time with those two, what had just happened. He hadn't exactly swept her off her feet, had he? But then again this _was_ Robbie Lewis… _Bloody hell_. Oh well, she'd tried her best. Maybe Hathaway really was right that they were just friends… It looked like his £20 would be safe after all.

* * *

Robbie had held her hand all the way to her door, and as Laura slipped the key into the lock she was reluctant to break the contact. She turned slightly, her hip resting against the door frame,

"Do you want to come in?"

He smiled his assent, but shook his head ruefully,

"Nah, Innocent might have let me off the leash for a few minutes, but I need to be getting back to the river. There were at least three people who thought they'd seen something, so statements will need to be taken."

Still he didn't release her hand, though, his fingers curling around hers,

"But are you ok now? I don't want to leave you if you still feel weird…"

She squeezed his hand decisively and nodded,

"I'm fine. Much better."

He stepped back slightly, still looking concerned, but reassured enough to consider leaving. Before he could draw breath, though, she had stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, her cheek pressed tightly into his chest. Instinctively, his arms enfolded her, holding her even closer, his lips pressing a firm kiss to the top of her head. There was a desperation in her grasp, a fear that he well understood.

For several minutes, they were silent, simply holding each other, their unspoken gesture somehow resetting the balance between them. Gradually, he felt her begin to relax, and he stroked her hair, his thumb caressing the side of her face,

"The neighbours will talk…I can hear the net curtains twitching…"

He felt her smile, and, as she looked up at him, he saw tears shining in her eyes,

"I can't say that I care…"

He grinned back, pressing a kiss to her forehead,

"OK now?"

She nodded, her hands coming to rest on his chest,

"Just promise me no more burning boats or buildings this week?"

He grinned sheepishly and nodded his assent.

"OK, then yes, you may go back to work"

"Am I allowed to kiss you properly, or will that really upset the neighbours?"

Her eyes lit up with mischief, and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper she replied,

"I can't stand my bloody neighbours"

He had barely recovered from the laughing fit when she wrapped her hand around his neck, and expertly drawing his lips to hers, really gave the neighbours something to gossip about.


	11. Chapter 11

The mist hung low over the Cherwell, and the air had a distinct chill to it as Laura walked into Oxford the next morning. A scull slipped past, the oars tapping out a gentle, sustained rhythm against the water. He had offered to pick her up this morning, both of them knowing she lived nowhere near his route into work, but she had insisted on walking in by herself. Life had moved so quickly this past week, and it felt good to walk, to slip back into a more natural cadence.

Until yesterday, she'd never once feared for his safety, not really. She was well aware of the risks his job entailed, but she'd never allowed herself to think through the implications of those risks. Robbie had a permanence about him, a stability, that made it hard to imagine anything ever happening to him. Yes, of course he got into scrapes here and there…she'd patched him up a fair few times herself…but nothing serious. Yesterday had shocked her profoundly.

She wondered idly how Val had coped. It must have been hard waiting up for him, not knowing if he'd be late, if he'd be safe. She hadn't known her particularly well, but she remembered a cheerful, fun-loving woman. There must have been some quiet moments of concern too. Of course, the terrible irony of it all had been that it hadn't been Robbie who one day hadn't made it home.

She walked on, threading her way through the narrow streets. Students were hurrying to lectures, their gowns flowing out behind them, looking faintly ridiculous over their jeans and leggings. Not for the first time, she wondered if she would always live in Oxford. It certainly felt like home now…but she longed for the country. A weekend on the beach would do her good, and although she would miss him, Laura was pleased that she was going to see Ellen. She hadn't entirely decided whether she was going to tell her all about the most recent developments…it would probably depend principally on how much wine they got through.

* * *

By mid-morning, Lewis had sent DC Gray off on some fact-finding errands and managed to steal a few minutes before Innocent had finished her meeting. As he walked the familiar corridors down to the mortuary, he realised that he actually had a proverbial spring in his step. _Aw, get a grip of yourself, man._

Her office door was ajar, and he knocked lightly. She was sitting at her desk, with her back to him, the gloomy room only lit by her desk lamp,

"Just a moment…"

She held up a hand behind her, gesturing for him to wait, clearly with no idea who it might be coming to disturb her. He smiled to himself, and watched as she scrutinised the papers in front of her, drawing something carefully, before sitting back and turning slightly to look at him,

"Ok…oh Robbie?"

She looked genuinely shocked and smiled shyly,

"I thought you were Amy…sorry…What are you doing here?"

He stepped into the room, intrigued by the project spread across her desk,

"Nothing…just saying good morning to my favorite pathologist."

He loved Laura's office. It was strange mixture of order and chaos, with a horizontal filing system that would give Innocent a heart attack. Piles of paper were arranged neatly across most of the floor, creating a sea of white. It was such a stark contrast to her cottage, which was tidy and cosy, and the precariously balanced piles of papers, files and books always amused him. Today, however, the desk was almost cleared of 'filing' and was taken up instead with large graphs, a selection of tables, and several pages of Laura's neat calculations,

"More to the point, what are you doing? And you accuse me of being the Luddite…"

He tapped a finger at the hand-drawn graphs and raised an eyebrow. She only smiled, and picked up the set square again, adjusting one of the thin pencil lines on the graph,

"It helps me think more clearly….it's this body of Peterson's, something really doesn't add up. The histology report has thrown up at least three contradictory markers, and the only way I can separate them is to plot the individual trends like this."

"And doing them on the computer wouldn't be easier?"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly,

"No…it would certainly be quicker, but this helps me think more clearly about what's going on… there's some kind of interaction between the insulin he was taking and the drugs administered by the paramedic"

She tapped the end of her pencil on the desk impatiently, and then pushed the chair back up to stand. As she walked across the room to retrieve the desired volume, Lewis took a closer look at the symbols and equations,

"But you're doing all those calculations in your head?"

She furrowed her brow, still distracted by the task of trying to find the appropriate page,

"Hmm…the percentages make it a bit trickier, but yes, why?"

She didn't see the look of awe on his face, but she did catch the broad grin that spread from ear to ear,

"Bloody hell woman…"

She tried to look modest,

"What? Did you think it was all chainsaws and entry wounds?"

He chuckled, shaking his head,

"I think I might have watched too much CSI…"

She raised an eyebrow, and, having found the reference she needed, added the book to the pile building on the chair,

"So….want to help me with the next series of equations, or do you have plans to chase some villains with a swag-bag down the High Street?"

She crossed the room, and as she sat back at her desk, he placed his hand at the nape of her neck, gently teasing out the tension at the top of her spine.

"Nah, maths was never my strong point. Actually, I need to find some way of contacting the Croatian police…I was thinking I might give Hathaway a call…"

She twisted round to look at him, the teasing sparkle very much present in her eyes,

"You are joking?"

"No, why not? He'll be bored out of his brain by now…or at serious risk of taking holy orders. It's what any friend would do…"

"Yes, but Robbie, Pristina is in Kosovo…you know…Serbia. Not Croatia."

"Aye, but same difference, right?"

Not for the first time, she wondered why he often insisted on playing dumb. He was one of the most intelligent people she knew…but sometimes there really did seem to be a monumental gap in his logic…not to mention his knowledge of current affairs.

"Hmm…I think European history of the last, um, two centuries, would probably suggest that it's not, Robbie. And more importantly, it's got to be at least 500 miles…"

He grinned broadly, amused that once again she'd totally missed the joke,

"He'll be fine. He likes driving."

Admitting defeat, Laura turned back, and picked up her pencil. Tapping it gently against her lip, she pretended to think about the next line of results, before causally asking,

"Are you going to mention anything to him?"

He felt her tense imperceptibly,

"About?"

"About me and you…"

He smiled to himself, and rubbed away the tightness, his thumb running up to her hairline, his fingers casually caressing her jaw,

"Wasn't planning on it….none of his bloody business"

She raised an eyebrow, and meeting her eyes he smirked,

"It'll be a nice surprise for when he gets back."

Moving alongside her, he perched gingerly on the desk, and taking the pencil from her hand, pressed a kiss to her fingers,

"Speaking of which, I've booked this evening off"

She looked surprised, and instantly he knew the ear-bending from Innocent at 8am had been entirely worth it.

"Can you do that?"

"I can, and I have"

She tried to look casual,

"Got plans?"

He played along,

"Not sure yet…I was wondering if I might finally take you out for a posh dinner somewhere"

"That would be nice. I should be finishing at 4 today, so I will actually have time to go home and change into something a little more appropriate. How posh were you thinking?"

"Randolph-posh?"

Again, she looked genuinely surprised.

"Sounds delicious…you sure?"

"Of course…and I'll even pick you up and drive you home if you promise to behave yourself"

She held his gaze for just a moment too long, before smiling slightly, and looking back down at her work,

"Well, there's always a taxi…"

He squeezed her fingers, not wanting to make the inference he hoped she was suggesting.

"Good, pick you up at 7?"

She nodded, still not looking up, and he stood to head back to the CID.

"Um, Robbie…?"

She tapped her cheek with her index finger and raised an eyebrow. He grinned broadly, and stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to the spot indicated, before heading back out into the corridor.

* * *

A/N - just wanted to say many thanks to all of you who have taken the time to review, it's much appreciated! It's great to know what you all think! :)


	12. Chapter 12

It was just coming up to quarter to seven when Robbie Lewis pulled up on the street outside Laura's house. He checked his watch again, and straightened his tie. He wasn't exactly nervous…he had been looking forward to this evening all day…but he couldn't deny that he felt a little anxious. He looked at the clock on the dashboard, and confirmed what he already knew. He was early. _Too early?_ He didn't want to barge in and rush her…or worse, end up standing awkwardly in the hall while she finished getting ready. He might be out of practice on the whole dating front, but he well remembered how long it would take Val to put her glad rags on and do her hair. He smiled at the memory. _God, how many evenings had started with them bickering about how long she was taking?_ He checked the clock again. _Still 15 minutes early._

* * *

The street was always quiet and Laura had, of course, clocked him the moment his car had pulled up to the kerb. _Of course he was early._ She smiled to herself as she adjusted the cushions on the sofa. _Would he want to come in?_ She wandered back through to the kitchen and set the dishwasher running…_no, he'd just sit and wait. Typical Robbie._ She eyed the clock over the sink and wondered if she should go and put him out of his misery.

He was checking his phone as she opened the car door, and the unexpected sound made him start,

"Geez Laura, are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

She grinned and slid in,

"Shouldn't wait around on strange street corners…never know who might turn up"

He smiled and slipped his phone back in his jacket pocket, his eyes taking in her appearance.

"I didn't want to rush you…you know, getting ready and all that"

She smirked at his obvious embarrassment and raised an eyebrow,

"What could possibly give you the idea I'm that high maintenance?"

He furrowed his brow and gave her his most patient look,

"Wait, don't answer that!"

She fastened her seatbelt, and sat back, suddenly feeling stupidly nervous. Biting her lip, she turned to look at him, wondering if he planned on starting the car any time soon.

He just smiled, seemingly watching her,

Caught mid-way between amusement and irritation, she raised an eyebrow, "What?"

Still smiling he reached over and delicately touching her chin, guided her lips to his in a gentle but firm kiss.

"You look beautiful"

She held his gaze for a moment, surprised a little at the intensity in his eyes, and then smiled mischievously,

"So, what's a girl got to do to get dinner?"

* * *

Their booking was for 7.30, so they ended up perched at the bar while the table was prepared.

"And he didn't tell you to get stuffed?"

"Aww.. it was there, in the subtext"

"Are you ok?"

"Mmm…they gave me a once over at the hospital"

"No…no.."

She tried to express herself carefully, sensitive to the rawness she knew so well. The silences in his conversations, the lost look that sometimes flickered across his eyes. The painful absence around which all their closeness had always skirted. As so many times before, she stumbled over the words.

But this evening it felt different. He was equally careful in his choice of words, but for the first time it felt like he was speaking directly to her about Val. Both including her in his grief, and the hope he felt at its passing,

"I'm just turning over the page on a new chapter"

At first she tried to dismiss it, still acutely aware that she had no idea where he wanted this confused relationship of theirs to end. Indeed, faced with his quiet acceptance of his feelings, she suddenly realised that for once in her life she hadn't planned ahead, not for a moment. He was coming for dinner on Monday night, and that was about as far as her mind had allowed her to think. She took another long sip of her drink, and set it carefully back on the bar. She felt his fingers lightly brush up against hers, and their eyes met again,

"Did I say something wrong?"

She smiled, shaking her head and squeezing his hand,

"No…not at all." She hesitated, unsure how to respond,

"You just said something I wasn't expecting to hear."

He looked at her sadly, but before he could reply properly, the waiter came over to announce their table was ready.

* * *

The food was delicious, and as they ate conversation flowed easily. He talked about his children, about his new grandchild. She told him about her father, about how she'd ended up in forensic pathology…how one day she planned to teach full-time. This was not an awkward first date, it was a meal between friends who had known each other for years, and were just beginning to discover how much they'd never talked about. Dessert came and went, he ordered a coffee, they lingered over the petit fours.

Laura sat back in her chair and smiled warmly at him. For once, she was completely relaxed and, after the rich food and delicious wine, slightly sleepy.

"Thank you for taking the evening off, Robbie…I've really enjoyed this"

He smiled back, holding her gaze, but there was a tinge of sadness in his eyes,

"Me too…we should have done this a long time ago"

She shook her head emphatically, not wanting to go down that route.

"Don't say that…"

He reached out across the table, his hand covering hers, his eyes now fixed on his empty coffee cup,

"I mean it…I've been unfair to you"

Again, she shook her head, turning her hand to stroke his palm, carefully, deliberately,

"I don't think so. Everything in it's own time, right?"

He sighed, and she studied his slumped shoulders, the regretful look in his eyes and made a decision. _If he wanted to talk, then fine, they'd talk._

"OK, so how long?"

She'd said it decisively, but quietly, without agenda.

He looked at her again, this time smiling more confidently,

"Long enough"

"Meaning?"

"A couple of years…when Ali was killed…"

She paused, not wanting their conversation to feel quite so much like an interrogation. She had no desire to question him for her own benefit…but it seemed he wanted to talk.

"What changed?"

He'd been staring at their joined hands, her fingers still caressing his, but now he looked straight at her,

"I felt guilty…god, I felt so guilty"

For a moment she wasn't sure what to say. Of course he would have felt guilty about betraying Val…she knew that. It was logical, it was natural. _Christ, she'd felt guilty about her feelings for him, so how on earth would he have felt?_ He probably still felt like it was a betrayal. Her heart sank a little. In spite of his earlier words, it was clear that things were far more complicated than she'd naively hoped.

"It must have brought everything back pretty vividly, another friend dying like that"

He nodded, his eyes serious,

"I was with her the night before she died, did you know that?"

"Hmm…I remember…you couldn't have known what would happen Robbie"

He hesitated, and rubbed his forehead nervously,

"She kissed me…then she was dead…and all I felt was guilt"

Laura suddenly wished they weren't sat in one of Oxford's most expensive hotels, surrounded by businessmen and tourists. That they were at home on her sofa, where she could talk to him properly, to help him revisit his memories away from prying eyes. She knew the waiter would be hovering soon, and she couldn't help but wish he would hurry up.

"Grief is a strange thing, Robbie…it makes you feel all kinds of emotions…I think it's entirely normal to feel guilty about Val."

It was as if a piece of the puzzle suddenly fell into place, and he sat back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers, a small ironic smile forming,

"I didn't feel guilty about Val, Laura"

He paused, but seeing her obvious confusion, pressed on,

"I felt guilty about you. That Ali had kissed me, and all I could think about was you. That she was dead and all I could think about was that I wanted you."

She swallowed, unsure what to say, her face serious. His hand was now warmly wrapped around hers, and she could see the waiter approaching over Robbie's shoulder,

"Can we go home?"

* * *

As they left the dining room, he felt her hand find his, her grasp a little tighter than usual. By the cloakroom, in the grand entrance hall, he helped her on with her coat, dropping a kiss to her forehead as he did so. They didn't speak…they didn't need to.

* * *

As Robbie slid the car out of the car park, Laura relaxed against the soft leather of the seat. The events of the week were beginning to catch up with her, and as he expertly handled the car around Oxford's winding streets, she tried not to over-think what he had told her. Suddenly things had begun to make more sense. The long looks, the more frequent touches. He had clearly been thinking about moving on for some time. And that knowledge made her feel so much more relaxed about the sudden shift in their relationship. _He wanted this as much as she did._

Robbie glanced over at her, and smiled as he realised she had her eyes closed. She was tired, he could tell, and he was pleased that she felt so relaxed in his company. He was glad that he'd had the chance to explain his changing feelings for her. Not that he'd really told her how he felt about her, but he'd made a start. Gently, he placed his hand on her knee, and he smiled as she covered his hand with her own.


	13. Chapter 13

Lewis pulled the car into the drive and switched the engine off. He was unsure where he wanted the evening to go, and for a moment he was a little nervous. When he looked across at her, though, she was watching him.

"Would you like to come in?"

He nodded, and held her gaze, letting the pause stretch out between them.

"I'd just like some company, I'm not…" she hesitated, "..not suggesting anything…"

He smiled, pleased that they seemed to be reading from the same page, and he reached over to take her hand, curling it towards his lips.

"Company sounds grand."

* * *

He knew Laura's cottage quite well, but walking into her home he felt like he was crossing a boundary. In the hallway, she took his jacket, and as she hung it over the banister, he lazily wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close. She relaxed against him, and he felt her arms snake around his waist, her forehead burrowing into his chest. They stood there a long time, saying nothing, just holding each other. He hadn't meant their evening to take such a morbid turn, but he was pleased now that she realised how serious he was about them being together. He remembered Innocent's words on the riverbank and smiled to himself.

Laura pressed her hand to his chest, and looked up at him,

"Tea?"

He smiled and nodded, pleased that she clearly had no plans to rush him, them, towards something they both wanted, but equally they both wanted to savour.

* * *

As Laura busied herself in the kitchen, Lewis took a moment to look around. Her kitchen was familiar, the pastel dressers, the clean lines blending with a cottagey homeliness. He loved her garden room, the plants everywhere, the way the light poured in in the morning. The last time he'd been here he'd questioned her honesty and nearly lost her. He sighed quietly. _Never again._

"The kitchen looks a bit different - you've moved things around"

She fumbled with some tea bags, dropping them into the pot, her hand hovering over the just boiled kettle,

"Mmm…"

"The table was against the other wall, and that bookcase was in the other room…"

"Mm…yes.."

"And you used to have a big plant in the corner, by the door?"

She halted in her movements, her voice quiet,

"After the break in, I wanted a change"

He closed his eyes, _how bloody stupid was he?_

"It just didn't feel like home anymore"

As his arms wrapped around her, taking the steaming kettle from her hands, he realised that they were shaking slightly. He took her delicate fingers in his own, warming them with his touch, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her head.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here quicker that night; that I didn't realise how much danger you were in…."

She relaxed against him, her head leaning into his shoulder,

"I'm just glad you came when you did."

"Let me be mother?"

She smiled and nodded, her eyes twinkling again, and he reached around her and poured the hot water into the pot.

She slipped out of his embrace to open the fridge and extract some milk. He watched her closely as she put some biscuits on a plate. She grinned and shook her head with amusement,

"I'm not made of glass, Robbie, you know…you've just caught me at the end of a rather intense week"

He nodded, taking the plate from her hand, and collecting the mugs from the counter.

"Sofa?"

She nodded back, kicking off her shoes.

"Actually, would you mind if I changed? I feel a bit overdressed for curling up on the sofa."

"Shall I put the telly on?"

"Of course, I'll only be five minutes, make yourself at home."

* * *

He placed the mugs carefully on the table, making sure to use the coasters provided. _Yes, Laura Hobson was definitely a coaster girl._ He slumped down into the sofa, his muscles aching from the day's exertions. He really wasn't getting any younger. Picking up the remote, he flicked the set on, and settled on the news. He knew full well that there was a Europa Cup game on ITV4, but it was perhaps early days to subject Laura to the football. He smiled to himself at the thought of it. One day he'd definitely get her to a Magpies game…_and she'd bloody love it_. If she was really lucky, he might even buy her some chips with curry sauce.

He loosened his tie and then undoing his top button, elected to take it off altogether. The carpet was cream-coloured, and very inviting, and as a precaution he slipped off his shoes and put them to one side of the sofa. The room was a little dark, so he clicked on one of the small side lamps. His eyes fell upon the fireplace…there was a full scuttle of coal, and, by the looks of it, some decent kindling.

* * *

Laura slipped the pale grey cashmere sweater over her head, and brushed her hair back from her face. She surveyed the room quickly, and straightened the bedspread. _Would she be inviting him up here?_ The thought was exciting, but she was conscious that she didn't want to rush him. They were both in the middle of a case, tomorrow would surely bring another busy day, it didn't feel like the time to do this, not yet.

As she walked back into the living room, she found him on his knees, putting the final touches to the fire. She winced a little as he heaped the coal up, fearing for her carpet, but then smiled, as he carefully lit the kindling, and replaced the fireguard. Adjusting the flue, he sat back on his heels, to admire his handiwork.

"You've done that before"

He grinned, taking in her new casual attire,

"Maybe"

The flames caught well, and he stood up gingerly, holding his dirty hands out like a schoolboy,

"Kitchen…soap dispenser on the counter, towel on the rail…"

She smiled to herself, shaking her head a little as he departed, and settled herself down on the sofa. When he returned, she was curled up with a blanket around her shoulders, the mug of tea steaming in her hands.

"Is there room for a little one?"

A/N Many thanks for all the lovely reviews - they are so motivating! :) I had an insane idea the other day that I could continue this through several more episodes...but that would be some serious work! We will see... I also have a Waking the Dead fiction planned, so it might be something for the future. Oooh...crossover. ;)


	14. Chapter 14

As Newsnight ended, Lewis looked down at the woman who was curled up in his lap…and who was undeniably fast asleep. He smiled to himself, and gingerly reaching out for the remote, flicked over to the football highlights. She murmured something incomprehensible, and snuggled in closer. He stretched back against the soft fabric of the sofa and experimentally put his feet up on the coffee table. It seemed stable enough…

Another hour passed, and he realised that a decision would soon have to be made about going…or staying. It was nearly midnight, and he knew that they would both need to be at work in the morning. Gently, he caressed her cheek with his hand. She smiled in her sleep, leaning into his touch, but hardly stirred. It seemed a shame to wake her. He knew she was a terrible sleeper but he hadn't got the heart to just leave quietly without saying goodbye.

The small clock over the mantelpiece ticked over to midnight, and fire had all but burnt out. Robbie sighed, knowing it was time to do the inevitable. Very, very carefully, he lifted her upper body from his lap, and twisting painfully, he placed her back gently on the sofa, and wrapped the blanket around her. Giving small thanks for the fact that he had earlier removed his shoes, he padded silently across the carpet and out into the hallway. It was dark, but he knew the house well enough to feel his way to the stairs. His hand wrapped around the cool wooden banister, and he hauled himself up as quietly as possible.

The door to her bedroom was ajar, and the lamp on her bedside table cast a warm glow over the room. He'd never been in her bedroom before, and he couldn't help smiling…it was exactly as he'd imagined. Crisp white linen, muted greys, purples and cornflower blue. Entirely Laura. He folded back the duvet on the right hand side, next to the table with the lamp and a small heap of books, and, checking the floor quickly for obstacles, padded back downstairs.

She stirred slightly as he picked her up, but soon settled against his chest as he began to climb the stairs. His back would protest in the morning, of that he was sure, but at least she was relatively light. He smirked to himself a little…the second unconscious woman he'd had to carry in as many days…_ maybe he did deserve a medal for his gallantry, after all?_ Rounding the corner carefully, he stepped into the room and gingerly laid her on the turned down bed. She immediately snuggled her face into the familiar pillow and he pulled the covers up over her and clicked off the light.

* * *

He sat for another long half hour in the living room, half watching the telly, unsure what to do. The fire was entirely out now, and although he'd wrapped the blanket around him a little, it was chilly sat there in his shirt and trousers. He yawned loudly, and, looking at the clock again, knew he had to make a decision. Stay or go. If he went, he would probably regret it. He didn't want Laura to think he'd just left her. But if he stayed. Should he sleep on the couch? The idea didn't really appeal. She probably had a spare room up there…no…she definitely did, because Ellen had stayed for a few weeks. But again, that wasn't what he wanted. He shivered slightly, partly from the cold, partly from the decision he was about to make. _Aw…get a grip of yourself, man…_

When he reached the bed, he realised that she was fast asleep now, murmuring to herself, dreaming. The curtains were slightly parted, and the faint moonlight spilling in meant that he could navigate his way to the other side of the room without incident. Noiselessly, he slid in under the duvet, and, without being entirely aware of it, held his breath. She didn't stir. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by a desire to giggle, but he managed to stifle it. _Stop behaving like a bloody teenager…_ He rolled over carefully, onto his side, and moved experimentally closer to the centre of the bed. It felt strange to be lying there fully clothed, but he was so exhausted he hardly cared. Carefully, he bent his leg a little, getting comfortable, trying not to move too much. She murmured again, and rolled over in her sleep towards him. She was so close that her forehead was almost touching his, and he could feel the soft rush of her breath against his neck,

"Robbie…"

His breath caught, and for moment he wondered if she had woken…but no. Very carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, his thumb lightly caressing her back, and drifted off to sleep himself.

* * *

The cool morning light was being to creep through the curtains as Laura Hobson opened her eyes. Immediately, three things struck her as curious. Firstly, it was well after 7am and she felt rested and well-slept. Secondly, she seemed to have gone to bed fully clothed. Thirdly, and most curious of all, she wasn't alone. The unmistakable weight of a man's arm was wrapped around her waist. Not that these three observations particularly concerned her, not at all. Turning over slowly, careful not to wake him, she propped herself up on her elbow. He was still sleeping, and she was immediately struck by how much younger he looked. Not that she ever really thought of him as old. He was always moaning about retirement, had been for years, but there was something innately youthful about him. He was also wearing his clothes in bed. _Of course he was._ She vaguely remembered him carrying her up the stairs, of waking in the middle of the night curled up against him. She was pleased he'd stayed. She hadn't meant to fall asleep so quickly and would have felt terrible if he'd left and gone back to his flat alone.

He was still sleeping, and she found she couldn't resist stroking her fingers down the side of his face. He murmured softly, and she smiled, her thumb caressing his lower lip. She felt a light pressure as he kissed the offending digit, before opening his eyes and looking at her sleepily,

"Are you trying to wake me up, woman?"

She grinned mischievously, her eyes playful,

"No…"

He gently bit the soft pad of flesh, before making what sounded suspiciously like a growl,

"Good…"

She felt his arm slid up her back, pulling her down towards him, and then his hand was in her hair, her lips against his,

"Laura…"

As he kissed her, Robbie wondered whether he was awake or still dreaming, and then decided he didn't really care. He had imagined this feeling many times, but as their kisses grew more passionate, as his hands wrapped around her body, pulling her closer, he knew that reality was far preferable to his fantasies. Laura felt herself sinking in to him, his hands stroking across her back, lifting to cup her head and pull her closer still. Her hands were on his chest, and soon she was lying on top of him.

The sharp, insistent beep of her alarm clock intruded on the moment though, and groaning she tore herself away and scrabbled around on the bedside table. He turned as she did, and as she reached out to switch the light on, a warm arm wrapped around her, a firm body curled against hers.

"Please tell me that you set your alarm stupidly early and that I have at least several hours to make love to you slowly before I let you go to work…"

His voice was low and gravelly, and his lips against her ear sent a shiver down her spine. She'd always wondered if he would be nervous, whether memories of Val would make this hard for him, too awkward._ Obviously not._ Her mischievous eyes sparkled a little and she suppressed a smile. Slowly she turned to face him,

"Do you want the bad news, or the bad news?"

He groaned and pressed his lips to her forehead,

"Well, seeing as you put it so positively, I'll have the bad news please…"

She grinned, and rubbed her leg against his,

"It's nearly quarter to eight.."

He groaned loudly, and she giggled…

"And the other bad news?"

He pulled her to lie on his chest again, determined to secure at least one more kiss, before reality began to seep in,

"I don't sleep with anyone on a first date"

He grinned, and kissed her nose,

"How about on a second date?"

For a moment she pretended to consider it…before shaking her head carefully and replying with perhaps more seriousness than she intended,

"I can't say there have been very many of those, Robbie"

He ran his hands down her back smoothly, and ever so carefully turned them both so that she was lying on her back, before kissing her tenderly,

"Is it terrible that I'm very pleased to hear that?"

She smiled, kissing him back lightly,

"No…to be honest, I think you were probably a pretty significant factor in it"

They kissed again, both aware that the time for getting up had long passed…but both knowing that it would be several days before this moment would happen again.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they were stood in her hallway, and Laura was expertly arranging Robbie's tie. Both of them were quietly shocked at just how very normal this felt, this closeness. Although there was an undeniable spark of tension between them - just as there had always been - the overwhelming feeling was one of familiarity. As if they had been doing this for years. Standing back to observe her work, Laura expressed what they were both feeling,

"I wish I wasn't going to Suffolk tonight… I doubt I'll get that kind of wakeup tomorrow"

He snorted slightly, trying not to laugh

"I should bloody hope not!…unless there's something you've not been telling me about Ellen…"

She hesitated and raised an eyebrow suggestively, her voice deliberately nonchalant, as she carefully turned down the collar on his shirt,

"Actually, I _have_ snogged Ellen…but in my defense it was after at least a bottle of very dubious wine and I was about 20"

His eyes widened noticeably, and his arms swept round her shoulders possessively, pulling her against him as he stepped towards the front door,

"After that little revelation…which we will need to discuss, probably in extensive detail, when you get back…" he tapped his finger against her lips, knowingly, ignoring her smirk, "I'm not sure that I should let you go unchaperoned…"

She grabbed her bag and keys as he led her through the front door,

"You know that we'd eat you alive, don't you?"

He waited on the path as she locked up, weighing up his options,

"True…"

She smiled cheekily and, unlocking her car, looked over her shoulder back at him,

"Next time"

He grinned, and stepping up behind her, wrapped his arm around her waist,

"Definitely"

He kissed the back of her head, and she turned,

"Are you going to let me go to work now?"

He noticeably tightened his grip around her waist and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips,

"Maybe"

She smiled against his lips, and pulling back attempted a glare of mock irritation,

"I still haven't had a cup of coffee and I'm dying here"

He grinned, and kissed her again,

"If I bring you coffee later, will I be forgiven?"


	15. Chapter 15

[A/N: Just a quick one...but gets us from a to b! Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews!]

Much to her satisfaction, Laura managed to blaze through her work far more quickly than she anticipated, and by 2pm she was back home, packing her things for her weekend away. Small piles of clothing were laid out neatly on her bed, and she stood back, one hand over her mouth, carefully deliberating. _Bloody hell._ She never knew what to take to Ellen's… It was only a weekend cottage, and she knew that Ellen had gone up this morning, so the fires wouldn't have been on long and it would still be chilly. But then again, it was unseasonably warm for the time of year… She sighed, opting, as she always did, for a larger bag and a bigger selection of clothes.

She sat down for a moment, smoothing her hand over the duvet. It was only a week… _How much had happened?_ She smiled to herself, shaking her head a little, _only a week_. Somehow the fact that it had been several years in coming made little difference. She lay back, her head coming to rest on the pillow. It smelled unmistakably of him, as she'd known it would, and the memory of the morning flooded back. She had been surprised by his confidence, but more than that, she had been equally struck by how very natural it had all felt. It wasn't as if she were entirely inexperienced, but she had never felt so at ease with another man. It was funny, she'd assumed that their normal easy familiarity would translate into awkwardness, at least to begin with…but this morning only an alarm clock and the finest threads of her restraint had kept them from… She smiled again, sighing loudly. _It was going to be a long weekend._

* * *

She'd parked her car round the back of the Pharmacology department - one of the perks of a part-time teaching role - and had walked to meet him in the University parks. The sun was shining again, and not for the first time, she wished that she would be staying to enjoy the weekend. She waited on the bridge for a few moments, resting her elbows on the rough stone, watching a couple of kids out on a punt. _Those were the days._ She had vague recollections of the last time she had gone out on one…it was mid-way through her last exam term, some Pinot Grigio had definitely been involved, and Alec had certainly fallen in. Several times if she remembered correctly. She was still smiling at the memory when a now-familiar arm spread lazily across her shoulders, and she felt a soft press of lips against her hair.

"Dare I ask?"

She shook her head, and smirked,

"Probably best if you don't…"

He smiled patiently, and sighed deeply,

"So, are you all packed up, like?"

"Yep…all sorted. Car's over at Pathology. How did James get on? Still looking like Cornish is in on all this?"

He sighed again, and leaned heavily against the bridge next to her,

"Aw…it just gets worse and worse, Laura… You think you know a bloke…but anyway, looks very much like he's a big part of it. We'll get him when he comes crawling home…"

"You couldn't have known, Robbie"

He looked at her, surprised, not for the first time, how quickly she read his mind,

"I know…it's just…"

He ran his hand through his hair, exasperated, tired of it all. She leant against him, her hand coming to rest on his wrist,

"Louise"

He nodded, his hand finding hers,

"I've just come from hers. She's in a bad way. She was a good friend of Val's…I feel like I should help her…you know, _do_ something"

Laura nodded, squeezing his fingers,

"Just be there, Robbie…it's all you can do"

He sighed again,

"Jack Cornish didn't just fall into drugs, did he? Through poverty or a chaotic life…he walked in with his eyes wide open. Knowing people were gonna die, lives were gonna be ruined…and he just didn't care."

She paused, beginning to realise just how deeply this was affecting him, concerned she didn't know how to help,

"Well you'll put a stop to that"

"Well, we'll close the factory…still got to nail Faulkner and his mates"

"You will"

She couldn't do more than reassure him, she knew that. Perhaps it was all he needed though, as he straightened up and changed the subject,

"And when I do, d'you fancy a ride one night after work?"

"A ride?"

"What?"

She looked at him incredulously, completely flummoxed how he'd gone from crystal meth to horses…

"I mean a bike ride…there's a bike hire shop.."

She shook her head slightly…_oh the bizarre things that men think of,_

"Robbie…you? On a bike?"

He grinned broadly now, realising the faint ridiculousness of his suggestion, but not entirely regretting the mirth in her eyes at his expense…nor the warmth of her body pressed against him in a tight hug. She narrowed her eyes mischievously, and kissed him playfully on the cheek, before lowering her voice seductively,

"You know Robbie, I can think of plenty of other things I'd like to do when the case is over…if that's ok with you?"

Her arms were now looped lazily around his neck, and reaching up she brushed a kiss over his lips. He chuckled, before pressing his lips more insistently against hers,

"Yeah…that'll be fine with me too"

She pulled back a little and grinned conspiratorially,

"Walk me to my car, before half the force catches me 'wasting police time'?"


	16. Chapter 16

[A/N - Yay, finally just dialogue... This is what I love best! Things are going to go a bit AWOL from the episode for a few chapters, for obvious reasons, but don't worry, it will all fit. Like I've said before, this is just what they had to cut from the screened episode, obviously... ;) Also, apologies to the Americans for the Radio 4 references...I just think it fits Laura very well.]

Laura was just heading over the Orwell bridge when the hands free device began to vibrate and flash. She didn't need to check the display on her phone to know who it would be,

"Hey Robbie…you've get excellent timing"

She turned the radio off and adjusted the earpiece.

"Hmmm?"

"Yep, the News Quiz has just ended and you've got fifteen minutes until Front Row…"

She heard him laugh, and something creak…presumably him swinging his legs up onto the desk,

"Not a fan of the Archers then?"

"God no…please tell me you aren't?"

The cheeky bastard actually paused for a moment before replying sarcastically,

"Aw….you're breaking my heart…"

"Seriously?"

"Gettaway woman, do you really think I've got time to listen to a radio soap opera about farming?"

She hesitated, signalling to overtake a clapped-out Beetle,

"But you had time to call me"

She heard him chuckle, and she smiled to herself,

"No…I _made_ time to call you. Entirely different. So where are you?"

"Just driving past Ipswich…"

He tutted, and she shook her head, wondering not for the first time why he always asked about her driving if he didn't want to hear the answer,

"I won't ask how fast you've been driving to be there already…not too tired?"

"No…I'm fine. Under an hour to go now, and I can guarantee that Ellen will already have the dinner on. Speaking of which, have you remember to get something other than kebab?"

"Don't you dare criticize the holy kebab…"

He did indignant surprisingly well, and she made a mental note to tease him about his kebab addiction on future occasions,

"Ok, ok….just asking"

"I went home for a bit, fed Monty…managed a sandwich"

"Just promise me you'll have something decent when you get home."

She paused, wondering idly what he was planning for the weekend,

"You are going to go home, aren't you Robbie?"

"Don't you worry about me…just what I'm like at the end of a case…all goes a bit nuts"

"I guess it's something I'll have to get used to."

She'd said it without thinking, but he quickly replied, the warmth in his voice obvious,

"I hope so…"

* * *

"So am I allowed to ask what happens on one of these girls' weekends?"

"As much as I'd love to tease you horribly by saying drunken snogging and giggling about boys…" He groaned audibly. "Generally as little as possible… I plan on a long lie in tomorrow, then a decent walk in the country, hopefully followed by a delicious meal, lots of expensive wine, and curling up by the fire."

"Sounds like my perfect weekend. Though we'd need to watch the football though, of course."

"Of course…"

It was too easy to imagine…_far too easy_. _Long weekends, not being on call, maybe they could borrow Ellen's cottage sometime…Slow down, Laura, you don't even know how he likes his toast yet._

"So…case coming together?"

"Aye. Innocent and I are going to start the interviews tomorrow…could be a long day."

"What's she like?"

"Jean?"

"Yeah…she's one of those people who I've always thought I'd get on with…were she not, you know…"

"Yeah…I know…"

They both chuckled.

"She's good. Direct, but fair. You always know where you stand with her…actually quite a rare thing these days…she's old-school"

"You like her, don't you?"

"What can I say, I'm feeling more charitable these days…she seems to be looking out for me. She's offered to do Cornish with Gray, which has taken a lot of the pressure off"

She sighed, wishing again that she hadn't left him alone this weekend,

"He was a good friend, wasn't he?"

"Aye…I thought so, once. We weren't exactly close, especially not since Val died, but back in the day, yeah, we saw a lot of each other."

"Are you going to try and talk to him, when he's brought in?"

"Nah…what would be the point? I know it's a cliche but people change, friendships change…"

"Not always for the worse, though…"

She smiled, hoping he'd see her point,

"You're right there, pet."

* * *

The traffic was beginning to clear, and she hung back in the left-hand lane, relaxing into the seat.

"But I will try to see a bit more of Louise…if that's ok with you?"

"Of course…I think you should…and Robbie, you really don't need to ask me first"

"I know, pet…it's just"

"I know"

She hesitated for a second, wondering if she should say anything, not wanting to worry him…but decided that honesty was the best policy,

"And in the interests of transparency, I guess I should mention that Alec might well appear when I'm at Ellen's"

"Ah…my old friend"

"Hmm…"

"Should I be concerned?"

"Only that I might find myself facing an assault charge if he tries it on again…"

They laughed, and she felt the tension easing in her shoulders,

"Don't worry, pet, if the worst came to the worst, I'd get you off."

"Thanks Robbie, always knew there would be perks to seeing a copper"

"Seriously though, if he gives you any bother, I'll…"

"You'll what? Pop over with your handcuffs? Honestly Robbie, don't worry…I can more than handle Alec"

"OK…just call me though, if you need me…"

"I will. And don't worry, it's only a chance. Last thing I heard he'd decided he wanted to move on…part of the reason for visiting Ellen was to check she was ok now he's finally dumped her again"

"She's a good friend, isn't she?"

"Mmm…well, she's an old friend. There's not many people who stick the course these days. We wind each other up a lot, we're very different in some ways…but we do still make the effort."

"Are you going to tell her about us?"

She was momentarily distracted by a large van pulling up behind her, its lights dazzling her in the rear view mirror, and she hesitated before answering,

"I'm not sure…"

She heard his sigh, and instantly she regretted the change in mood. Deliberately lightening her voice, she tried again,

"Not because I'm embarrassed Robbie…just..well, I'm not sure she'll approve…and I'm not sure I can be bothered with the argument"

"Ouch…and she seemed so nice when I met her!"

She laughed, pleased that he obviously found it as amusing as she now did,

"Well…you hadn't suspected me of murder at that point, or left me in a shallow grave. She tends to fly off the handle a bit, makes assumptions. Last time I saw her, after she saw us together after the funeral, she seemed to think it was her duty to tell me to move on, find someone else"

The laughter drained from her voice as she realised he'd gone quiet. The silence was immediately awkward.

"I see."

* * *

She swallowed. _Damn_. She should have know not to make fun of it, not to push him too far, too quickly. He was tired, he was stressed, the last thing he needed was her making light of the horror of that night.

"Well, I'd best let you get back to driving…and your programme will be starting in a minute"

_No, Robbie, no…please don't…_

"Robbie…I…" her voice faltered a bit, unsure whether she should apologise or try to unpick what she'd said.

"I don't think we should be talking about this while you're driving, Laura…just do me a favour and concentrate on the road, pet"

He didn't sound angry - _when did he ever?_ \- just tired, and she knew better than to argue,

"OK…but…"

She bit her lip, suddenly frustrated by the lorry in front of her, and pulling back over into the fast lane, put her foot down.

Another awkward pause, and then he spoke again, his voice low, placating,

"Let me know when you get there? I'll probably still be here, but just let me know that you've got there safely"

"Of course"

It was slightly more curt than she intended, but never mind, _if he didn't want to talk, fine._

"OK, take care"

He hung up before she could, and she removed the earpiece, flinging it onto the passenger seat.

* * *

Forty minutes later, she swung the car into Ellen's drive, probably scattering more gravel than was strictly necessary. She took a deep breath and closing her eyes for a moment exhaled carefully. _Why does he does this to me?_ She smiled to herself, the tension in her shoulders beginning to dissipate. _You know why_. Reaching for her phone, she decided to risk him figuring out just how fast she'd driven the last stretch, and keyed in a quick text,

"Got here. Managed not to kill anyone. Can I call you later?"


	17. Chapter 17

She shoved her phone into her back pocket and hauled her battered leather weekend bag out of the car boot. The air was crisp, with hardly any breeze, and she could smell the salty tang of the sea. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind for a moment and just be. It was so quiet here. It surprised her every time. And so very, very dark. The inky blackness of the night sky was somehow instantly soothing. She shut the boot and locked the car. The porch light flicked on and as the door opened, a warm glow spilled out over the leafy path.

"Hey Laura….do you need a hand?"

* * *

As was her way, Ellen flittered around the kitchen, tending to a large pot of casserole, mashing potatoes, prodding the fireplace, whipping cream…all interspersed by snippets of conversation.

"And so I got here at 3 instead of 12…could you pass me that spoon please….and the dogs wouldn't settle for some reason….and the pepper…thanks….and…"

She trailed off, suddenly remembering herself, and turned, looking at Laura apologetically,

"…and I haven't even asked you how your trip was!"

Laura smiled warmly, simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated by Ellen's babble,

"It was fine."

"You got here earlier than I expected…"

_For goodness sake, I don't drive that fast…_

"Traffic was clear, just got lucky"

Ellen eyed her knowingly,

"There's something you're not telling me"

It always took Laura by surprise, how easily Ellen could switch like that. From a whirlwind of chatter and superficiality to a measured, razor-sharp observation. It was far too easy to forget how good a psychotherapist she was. Laura merely raised an eyebrow and adopting her most Sphinx-like expression replied,

"So, what's a girl got to do to get a drink around here?"

Laura knew her friend wasn't convinced, but she was too clever by half to tackle her sober. When it came to secret confessions between friends, professional conduct be damned, Ellen played dirty. As she rummaged in her makeshift wine cellar - a couple of old crates set on their side in an alcove - Laura felt the phone in her pocket vibrate gently. _Robbie_.

"What do you fancy? I've got some nice Tempranillo…or there's a white Burgundy"

"Red would be better with the casserole, I guess…um…I'll just put my stuff upstairs while you decide"

* * *

Robbie had been parking the car when her text beeped through. It was just coming up to eight o'clock and he dreaded to think how fast she must have driven to get there already. Still, it was better that she had just concentrated on getting there rather than winding herself up talking to him. He sighed and switched off the engine, before turning to his passenger,

"Right Gray, don't take all bloody night…get me one of those posh pasta salad things, anything without prawns…and a can of Coke"

"You're not coming in with me, sir?"

"Nah…be quicker if you go, I need to speak to Innocent again"

The lad took the proffered ten pound note and started off towards the glowing lights of the supermarket entrance. Robbie sat back heavily, rubbing his hand across his face. He was knackered. They'd nearly finished the paperwork for Faulkner, but they would need at least another hour or two to process the statements from the mortuary staff. Gray's rumbling stomach had started to put him off the file in front of him at around 7.30, and he'd taken pity on the lad, suggesting a quick refuel before the final stretch.

He'd lied about Innocent, of course, but he wanted a moment to himself. To think. He'd been hurt earlier by Laura's breezy comment, he couldn't deny it. But it had been coming and he'd been naive to think that the whole mess with the twins wouldn't come back to haunt him. Sooner or later, she was going to ask. He didn't think that this had been her intention earlier…she'd just said it by accident…but she _would_ ask. And she deserved an explanation. He'd kept clear of her for weeks after that night, and if he was honest, he'd only gone to the funeral because Hathaway had told him to. He wasn't entirely sure he could explain it to himself…but he'd have to try.

They were so different. He liked that. He admired her confidence, her determination, the way her temper flared so quickly, and the way that she would laugh so freely when he made a joke. He liked her seriousness, how she could tease out a problem, the way she kept just a little of herself back from other people. But this evening all those things had conspired against him and he'd felt suddenly vulnerable. She drove like a teenage boy at the best of times, and he'd heard the irritation in her voice immediately. He knew she'd be fine…she was as skilled behind the wheel as he feared she probably was with a scalpel…but the last thing he wanted was to distract her, to upset her. He'd been short with her, cutting her off like that, but it was for the best. _Hopefully she wasn't too worked up._

He slid the phone out of his jacket pocket, and reading the message quickly, smiled to himself.

* * *

Laura ducked her head to avoid the low beams as she entered the little room at the top of the cottage, and chucked her bag on the single bed. She took the phone out of the back pocket of her jeans, and set it deliberately on the low bedside table. It was cold in the room, as she'd expected, and she quickly shrugged off her leather jacket and sought out the heavy fleece that she'd packed. It was at least two sizes too big, but it didn't matter, they were hardly having a fashion parade. She discarded her boots and pulled on a pair of thick socks over her normal ones. The alert light on her phone was still winking accusingly. She pulled her legs up close to her chest and reached for it. It wasn't so much that she feared his anger…he didn't really get angry. _Not like she did._ If it had been up to her, they would have had it out, right there, on the A14, they would have talked about his reaction to her involvement with Ligeia, Peter, all of them… how much she had felt betrayed by him, she would have asked why it took him nearly two weeks to speak to her after…and they would have got to the bottom of it. It wouldn't necessarily have been pretty, but it would have been said. _There was so much that wasn't said._ It felt like there was an invisible wall still between them. She smiled ironically at how dreadfully cliched it was. Always she'd assumed their issues had been about Val. But no, this was entirely about them. The light flashed again, and she sighed. _They would sort this, they had to._ She just needed to get him to talk to her. _Somehow_.

She pressed the touchscreen and read the message. It was simple, and to the point, and she loved him for it:

"I'm not going anywhere Laura. Enjoy your tea…or what you posh Southerners would call 'dinner'. X"

* * *

It was late when she finally made it back up the stairs to bed, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. Ellen had made a wonderful dinner, as always, and they had spent nearly three hours curled up on the sofa putting the world to rights. She'd been accurate in her reading of the situation with Alec. Once again he'd played true to form and slunk off back to his boat, probably with a string of young women to keep him company. It upset her more than she let on to Ellen…she could see exactly where he was heading, but there was nothing that any of them could really do. And as for Ellen… She seemed ok. Laura never could understand how someone so brilliant at her job could be so unstable in her private life. _Were all therapists were like that?_ Most of the conversation had been about her new clinic, her new colleagues. It was good, seemed like she might be moving on finally. Briefly she'd mentioned Ligeia, and Laura had reassured her that not only had she attended the counselling Ellen had recommended, but that it had been useful. The moment had passed, and she was pleased that Ellen had moved on to another topic quickly.

And so now she was wrapped up in bed, struggling to get warm, the phone weighing heavily in her hand. She had to call him, but, not for the first time, she couldn't decide what she wanted to say. It felt like she needed a strategy, but where Robbie was concerned, she was sorely lacking. It just didn't feel right to manoeuvre him. The phone buzzed loudly, startling herself from her thoughts.

"Hope you've had a good evening, I'm just turning in, bloody knackered, got a full day of interviews tomorrow"

Quickly she pressed dial, just acting on instinct rather than thinking, and he picked up on the second ring, his deep baritone rumbling a little,

"Ah…so you're not out on the town"

She smiled, lying back against the cool pillow,

"Nope…I'm freezing my tits off in a very cold bed"

He groaned,

"Don't give me images like that, woman…are you trying to finish me off?"

"Sorry…it's just very, very chilly here"

"I can practically hear your teeth chattering down the phone"

She giggled, curling up under the blanket,

"Next time I'm bringing a hot water bottle"

He yawned loudly, and apologised,

"Nope…next time, you're bringing me"

She smiled, silently thanking him for not bringing up their earlier exchange,

"No…next time I'm staying at home with you"

He smiled, but hesitated slightly, obviously trying to choose his words,

"You're ok, though? Ellen hasn't upset you?"

"No…I'm fine."

Again, he waited, and she sighed gently,

"I really am fine. I just…I'm sorry about earlier…I just wish we'd had time to talk properly…about, well…everything…before I left. It feels like there's a lot still to say"

She paused, wondering if she should continue, not knowing how he was reacting to her words. He took a deep breath,

"Laura… "

She smiled…he was tired, she could hear it in his voice, but there was such warmth in the way he said her name.

"It's gonna be ok…I don't have any dark secrets to hide from you…" he paused, considering his words carefully, "…I can't promise you that I'll always be able to explain why I behaved the way I did…or why I didn't do what I should have…but it's not because of anything terrible, I promise. I'm just an ordinary bloke and I make mistakes. When it comes to you, I've made a lot of mistakes…"

She nodded, oblivious to the fact he couldn't see her,

"You don't need to apologise, Robbie. It's just…"

"I know."

Her voice was quiet,

"You do?"

"Yes. And we'll talk properly when you get home. And then we can start to make some plans for the future rather than worrying about the past."

She smiled and raised an eyebrow,

"Plans for the future? Are you sure you're an ordinary bloke, Robbie?"

He chuckled, pleased that she'd caught the bait,

"Well…on Monday I plan to let you feed me a lovely slap-up dinner…then on Tuesday I plan to make you come on a bike ride along the Cherwell, even if you laugh at me the whole time….on Wednesday I plan to…"

Her laughter eventually cut him short,

"Ok, ok…I get the picture"

She yawned audibly and he asked the inevitable,

"Bedtime?"

"Might be a good idea…you?"

"Already there…"

"Bet you're not as cold as I am…"

He chuckled,

"Bad luck…next time you'll think twice about ditching me for your girlfriend"

"I…." She paused, racking her brains for a witty reply, but finding none consoled herself with a simple "Good night, Robbie".

He grinned, knowing, for once, he'd got her,

"Good night, pet…sweet dreams"


	18. Chapter 18

It was just after 8am, and Laura was sat at the kitchen table, nursing a large mug of steaming coffee. She had relit the fires, fed the two ancient chocolate brown Labradors, and put a pan of water on to boil. She seldom took the time to make breakfast, but for some reason this morning she was starving and she planned to take full advantage of Ellen's well-stocked fridge. The cottage was silent, but for the snoring that was once again emanating from beside the Aga, and she knew from experience that it would be several hours until Ellen appeared. Indeed, if she were entirely truthful, it was partly for this reason that she so relished her time here. Ellen provided the perfect balance of company and solitude, and although they would certainly have a stroll this afternoon, Laura was longing for a decent walk on the beach, on her own.

The water was boiling and she carefully added an egg to the pan, checking the clock. She buttered and sliced her toast, her mind still preoccupied with the previous night's conversation. The routine soothed her, as it always did, and she ate slowly, savouring each bite. She wouldn't call him this morning. There was still too much to say, and she knew that he would be busy interviewing. He would be at work already, of that much she was sure, and likely as not, he wouldn't even glance at his phone until lunchtime. She drank the last of her coffee, and eyed the two overweight gentlemen next to the stove suspiciously,

"Anyone want a walk?"

Ben raised his head slightly, and raised an eyebrow, before settling himself back down on his paws. It seemed that the warmth of the kitchen was too tempting… Somewhat relieved - although she liked dogs, even their company this morning felt like a distraction - she went in search of a coat and some boots.

* * *

Laura loved the beach here. It was a strange place, washed up on the edge of the North Sea. Grey skies and muted sand slid together easily, and a firm breeze whipped along the channel of water between Walbeswick and Southwold. Old bloater huts punctuated the marshy flatland, dark structures now hollowed out by years of smoke and decay, and the inquisitive squawks of the juvenile herring gulls filled the air. The sun was pale and the beach was almost deserted. A few dog walkers, a fisherman packing up after a night watching his lines. She'd borrowed Ellen's walking boots, and the unfamiliar heaviness drew her attention to her steps. The shingle was fine, easy to walk on, and the receding tide left firm swathes of wet, compacted sand.

As she walked, the tangle of worries began to unfurl, and she tried to unpick her feelings. It wasn't that she had expected Robbie to explain away every missed opportunity, every awkward moment. Even she couldn't stomach the thought of a post-mortem on the entirety of their relationship of the last decade. It wasn't necessary, and it wouldn't help. No…all she wanted…needed…was to know why he had walked away after her attack. She understood that it had been difficult, that he'd questioned her honesty…that something had been damaged between them, but she didn't understand his coldness during the weeks after.

She'd taken up Ellen's offer of some counselling, dutifully attended the 8 sessions with her old clinical supervisor. He'd quickly understood that her post-traumatic stress was mild and that recovery was simply a matter of time, and their discussion had swiftly moved to her life in general. It had been hard, her choices held up so starkly for her to consider. But ultimately useful. It was only in his off-white studio, with the fake Edmund de Waal pots and conspicuous collection of prog rock LPs that she finally admitted to herself the place that Robbie Lewis had unwittingly carved out in her life. Admitted that he was the reason she couldn't move on, that he was what she wanted, that she had felt this way for years. It had been a painful truth, that had frustrated her as much as it brought peace. But somehow knowing, finally, what she wanted had made things clearer.

And yet he had so obviously stepped back from her. During the case, among the tears and the accusations, he had at least been present. She had been hurt, of course she had, but deep down she had known he was right to ask his questions, however much she wanted to punish him for them. But as she had sat shivering in a side-room at the hospital, the mud still coating her hair, the tears drying painfully on her reddened cheeks, it had been Hathaway who had waited to take her home. He had stayed while she showered, packed a bag, and he had driven her to her friend Geraldine's house. The next few days had been an exhausting mixture of interviews with an unfamiliar female detective, tests at the hospital on her injured shoulder and neck, and sleep, hours and hours of blissful, Valium-induced sleep. Every evening Hathaway would call her, check she was ok, ask if she needed anything. They'd laugh and joke about nothing in particular, he would talk to her about his upcoming gig and the nightmare they were having with their errant drummer. He'd taken her home, helped her with new locks, moved some furniture, and finally offered to sleep in the spare room while she readjusted. She'd never taken him up on the offer, but she had been grateful for his kindness.

After a few weeks off work, she'd insisted on being back in the mortuary. Running lab tests and reports at first, processing data, then back to the usual assortment of teaching, research and forensics. As her therapy sessions became ever more filled with discussion of Robbie, he had emptied from her life. It was nearly a month after that night, when Ligeia's body was released for burial, that she finally saw him, standing awkwardly at the back of the crematorium. He'd obviously waited until the service ended, and she'd hesitated, suddenly keenly aware of the truths she'd revealed to a stranger, but couldn't say to him. In the end she'd thanked him, he'd made some kind of attempt at humour and they'd walked, saying little, asking less. He didn't explain where he'd been, and in the absence of any explanation, she found herself wondering if she had any right to ask. And so they'd stumbled on, gradually resurrecting the trust between them, and now they were here…and suddenly his withdrawal all that time ago had become acutely painful. She'd always just assumed that he was disgusted with her, angry with the idea of her lying to him, and that finally he'd just got over it. But it hurt nonetheless. She'd never lied to him, never. And if he could walk away once, maybe he could do it again?

She looked up, aware for the first time that she had walked much further than she had intended. Her calf muscles were beginning to protest in unfamiliar boots. The morning scud had cleared entirely, and the pale autumn sun was flickering shards of glass into the sea. She turned, the breeze whipping her hair back, and began the trudge back to the car. In spite of her melancholy thoughts she felt strangely calm. Like a pebble in her shoe, she'd identified what was upsetting her, what she needed to ask. And she took solace from his calm, measured words of the previous night. Maybe he did have his reasons.


	19. Chapter 19

Just after three in the afternoon, Ellen suggested a stroll with the dogs around the village and up into the woods. Laura had returned from the beach via the butchers, with a large piece of pork, and they had been poring over recipes ever since lunch. Eventually they agreed on a straightforward roast with some apples from the tree in the garden, but Ellen was adamant that the sweet chestnuts up in Dunwich wood would be ripe and the perfect accompaniment.

They walked and chatted about everything and nothing. Books they've both read recently, a play they were planning to see at the end of November. Laura asked again about Alec, and was reassured when Ellen dismissed the topic lightly. As was her way, Laura had said very little about herself. It wasn't that she was deliberately evasive…she was just far better at asking questions and listening than she was at holding forth. The woods were practically deserted, the daytrippers long gone. They located the chestnut trees easily, and soon had filled the small basket with the shiny brown nuts. Ben and Jerry, Ellen's enormous Labs assisted in the task, prickling their inquisitive snouts on the sharp casings. The task completed, they set off back in the direction of the cottage.

"So what's new with you?"

Laura started slightly, her thoughts having been on the sound of waves receding behind them as the wind picked up along the cliff,

"Me?"

Ellen smiled patiently, well-used to Laura's reticence.

"Just normal….extra normal."

"Any interesting cases?"

Laura launched into a detailed description of the latest puzzle from Peterson's case, and pretty soon even Ellen's analytical brain had lost track of which parts of the tests were contradictory. She furrowed her brow, though, and biting her lip maintained her best impression of understanding.

"…And so the insulin spiked several minutes after the data from the paramedics timed the death, which means that it must have been part of the intravenous feed…"

Ellen smiled, suddenly seeing the solution,

"…and so it was the nurse? The one who had looked after him for over a decade?"

Laura nodded, the excitement at the solution tinged by the tragedy of the crime.

"Was Peterson the cute one?"

Laura smiled patiently, fixing Ellen with a knowing look,

"Both you and I know that I'm not going to answer that…"

Ellen pouted and stuck out her tongue, making Laura shake her head and laugh out loud.

"You're a complete idiot, you know that?"

Ellen merely shrugged and chivying the largest and slowest of the dogs on, decided to give the subject a break. Laura was impossible to tease at the best of times, and there was definitely something on her mind this weekend. She hadn't asked…she knew it would have the opposite effect anyway.

They walked slowly now, the dogs visibly tiring. Laura adjusted her scarf as the autumn chill began to settle around her shoulders,

"Robbie and I have started seeing each other"

It took every drop of Ellen's training not to let the expression of shock and confusion show on her face. The only sign she gave of hearing the softly spoken words was a slight shift in her gait and a curious glance to the side.

"Really?"

"Hmmm…"

Things began to fall into place…the edginess, the strange fluctuation between enthusiasm and withdrawing into herself, the quietness. _Goodness_. They exchanged another glance, and Ellen was surprised to see a steely determination in her friend's eyes.

"Are you sure?"

* * *

Three little words. Ellen knew exactly what to say, which button to press and how hard.

To her credit, Laura only hesitated a moment.

"Yes, I am"

Silence. Nothing but the crunch of leaves under their feet. Laura knew how Ellen would play it…she'd wait. She wouldn't say anything, she'd just wait and let the uncertainty reveal itself. As it inevitably would. As it always did. They crossed another path, the canopy of trees gradually growing denser, the light paler as the sun began to set.

"He's a good man, Ellen"

"Laura, he deserted you…he accused you of withholding evidence, he let those people take you, and he didn't even have the decency to visit you afterwards. He disappeared for weeks."

"I know."

She knew that Ellen wouldn't labour the point now, she didn't need to. As she'd anticipated, her friend did not approve, and there would be no dissuading her until she had clear evidence to the contrary. And after the hours she'd spent on the phone to Ellen during those weeks after her attack, she couldn't really blame her. It seemed futile to argue. In spite of the painful memories, though, she felt strangely, fiercely protective of him. It didn't matter what Ellen thought, not really. It didn't matter what anyone thought.

They walked in silence for a long while, the leaves crunching under their feet, the cool evening light fading as the sun dipped below the horizon. As they reached the edge of the village, though, Ellen quickened her step to catch up with Laura, and took her hand in hers, squeezing her fingers tightly, by way of silent apology. It wasn't a retraction, Laura knew her too well to read it as that, but definitely a reconciliation.

* * *

It was just after seven, after she slid the heavy roasting pan into the Aga, that Laura snuck back out to the beach. It was a bizarre, eerie place, Dunwich. A whole town lost to the sea, sunk beneath the waves. The beach was empty, the dim lights of a few fishing boats far out, but the moon was almost full. The whole cliff was visible, its rough edges hewn away by the storms of many winters. She shivered a little, in spite of the enormous coat she was wearing, and sat down on the shingle.

She hadn't really needed to leave the house to call him, the signal was fine in her room, but she wanted some space nonetheless. Ellen had judiciously opted not to mention the subject once they'd got home, and she didn't want to open the discussion again. Not that it had been a discussion.

She extracted her phone and with chilled fingers, located his number.

"Hi Laura…how's it going?"

She smiled, the tension of the afternoon immediately easing at the sound of his calm, deep voice,

"It's good. I'm sitting on the beach"

"What the bloody hell are you doing sitting on the beach in the dark?"

She giggled, and wrapped the coat tightly around her,

"I'm enjoying the peace and quiet…and escaping Ellen's judgmental ears"

"So you told her…"

There was caution in his voice, and she wondered if he was as nervous as she had been,

"Mmmm. Do you mind?"

"Of course not…look I can't go into it all now, but I think it was a good idea"

Again, she heard the hesitation in his tone and put two and two together,

"You're not on your own are you?"

"Nope…but it's fine. I haven't got anything to hide, pet"

She smiled, partly from the casual way he used the endearment, partly because of his honesty. She couldn't resist,

"You realise that James is going to want a full postmortem when he gets back, don't you?"

"Well, that's not really my line of expertise, is it? Might have to defer to your superior qualifications an' all that"

"You're teasing me Detective Inspector…"

He glanced over at Gray, and decided ruefully that flirting shamelessly on the phone with Laura wasn't the most profession demonstration he could give. He sighed audibly, and sensing his frustration she changed the subject immediately,

"So how's it going?"

"Fine. Should be charging them on Monday morning; things are tying up nicely actually, for once"

"That's great."

"Is everything alright?"

"Hmm…fine."

A fisherman was trudging across the shingle, his rod bag swung across his back, the storm light swinging gently as he moved.

"You just seem a bit quiet"

"I'm fine, Robbie…just tired. We did a lot of walking today"

"So how's Ellen? Has Alec made an appearance yet?"

"She's….well, she's Ellen. He's long-gone, and she's throwing herself into her work as usual. She's actually pretty good, all things considered. To be honest, she's been more interested in my mental health than her own"

"Now you _have_ got me worried, pet…"

"I'm fine. She's overreacting, as usual. If Ellen had her way, we'd all be in therapy and would sit around talking about our fears and regrets all day long and nothing would ever get done."

She said it lightly, with a faint chuckle, and yet something rang a little hollow. But suddenly conscious of his audience, Robbie thought better than to pry,

"Well, as long as you're having a good time"

She smiled wryly and leant back on the shingle, looking up at the stars. It was a beautifully clear night. It would be bitterly cold in the morning, and her breath was almost visible,

"I'm fine. I'm looking forward to Monday night...it will be good to see you"

It sounded strangely formal, but he shrugged it off,

"Me too. We need to talk, Laura, I know that…"

"I don't want it to change anything"

She said it hurriedly, the words spilling out before she'd really given them conscious thought. He frowned, hearing the anxiety quite plainly, and he spoke slowly, carefully,

"It won't. I promise. Don't worry."

"OK"

Her voice was quiet, but calm, and he hoped it was enough,

"Look, I need to crack on here…are you ok?"

"Yeah, just enjoying the stars…and freezing to death"

"I wish I was there…apart from the freezing bit. Can't say that sounds quite so appealing."

"I wouldn't be freezing if you were"

He grinned at the thought, and cast a quick glance at Gray who, he suddenly realised, had put on his iWhatever and was listening to something through the earphones, bless him.

"What time are you back tomorrow?"

She sighed,

"I'm not sure. I wasn't planning to drive home until Monday…the roads will be quieter in the morning after the rush hour"

If he was disappointed, he hid it perfectly,

"Sounds like a plan. Just so long as I get me dinner"

"Any idea what you'd like?"

"You know me, anything that doesn't come out of a plastic tray would be a treat"

She chuckled, her mind already filling with ideas,

"You're going to have to learn to cook, you know…I do have _some_ standards…"

He smiled, making a mental note to quiz Hathaway on his return for some books,

"I'm very good at carving up, you know…"

She tutted and outright laughed at him,

"No way…that's definitely my area of expertise"

"Aw…you're disgusting, you know that, don't you?"

She smirked, amused, as always, by his obvious shudder of horror,

"I know….but it's why you love me"

The words tripped out easily, thoughtlessly, and the whisper of a pause before he answered stretched out between them,

"Hmm…I suppose it must be"

He smiled to himself as she took an audible deep breath. He was pretty certain she hadn't meant to say that. There was a pause, and he could almost hear the cogs turning,

"So are you having anything nice for dinner then?"

She smiled, thankful that he hadn't pushed her,

"Yes…roast pork. In fact, I probably should head back to the house and get the vegetables on"

He groaned,

"Aw man that sounds good…remind me again why I'm sat in the office with the remains of a cheese toastie and a can of Red Bull?"


	20. Chapter 20

"Why are you here, Laura?"

It was just after 10am, and they were sitting at the breakfast table, nursing large mugs of coffee. The previous night had ended with them staying up late, drinking too much wine, and watching an absolutely awful straight-to-DVD rom-com into the early hours.

"Bit early in the morning for an existential crisis, isn't it?"

Laura yawned loudly, as if to emphasize the point, and took another long sip of the steaming liquid.

"I'm serious, why did you come?"

Confused, but warming to the topic, she answered simply,

"Um…because you invited me?"

Ellen smiled curiously, and pulling her knees up under her, fixed Laura with a patient look,

"Try again"

Laura reached out for a slice of toast, and after methodically applying some butter and marmalade, sighed and glared back,

"Because I was worried about you…"

There was a pause, and Ellen replied gently, not wanting to force the point home,

"But I'm fine…you know I'm fine. Alec and me…well…it was never going to be the romance of the century, was it?"

Laura smiled sympathetically, rising to refill the kettle,

"I suppose not."

She set the kettle back down and stared out of the window into the garden, the penny finally dropping,

"You think I should go home?"

They'd tiptoed around the subject all weekend. Laura didn't feel comfortable asking for advice, but in truth, it was what she wanted. Some reassurance that things would work out. That she wasn't making a mistake. She hadn't run away from Oxford, circumstance had simply presented the opportunity…but distance had prompted her to consider the implications of everything that had, and hadn't happened.

"I just think you should talk to him…before you get too involved. I don't want you to get hurt again"

Laura ran the water, filling the washing up bowl carefully, her hands busy as the lump rose in her throat,

"I called him last night…he's fine. Working a lot of overtime, finishing a case"

She added the detergent and took another deep breath, utterly confused by her reaction, the way her heart was beating loudly in her chest.

"Laura, I've never seen you like this…you're on edge…he's really got to you this time, hasn't he?"

Before she really knew it, warm tears were pricking at her eyes, and the breath caught in her throat. All the nervous tension from the past week came flooding over her at once. She swallowed quickly, willing herself to calm down, and began to wash the breakfast things. As she turned to pick up the extra plate, Ellen immediately saw her reddened eyes,

"Oh sweetie, come here"

Quickly Ellen wrapped her in a tight hug, copying what Laura had done for her so many times over the years.

"I'm sorry…this is pathetic…I don't even know why I'm getting upset"

Ellen hesitated, wondering if she should offer an opinion, but opted instead for retrieving a tissue and flicking the kettle on. It wouldn't help her to hear a theory right now, and anyway, Laura was more than astute enough to understand her own mind.

"You're just wound up…and hungover"

Laura tried to laugh, her shoulders shaking slightly,

"Well who's fault is that?"

Ellen grinned and stepping back rubbed her hands up and down Laura's arms.

"Guilty as charged, officer"

The kettle pinged off, and Laura slumped back down in her chair, the washing up forgotten. Crossing her arms, and lying her head over them she took a deep, shaky breath.

"You ok?"

She nodded quickly, and straightening up, held out her hand,

"More coffee please…"

* * *

By midday, she was on the road. They'd talked more over their third mug of coffee, and by the time she'd finished it, she had decided. For days she'd been winding herself up, desperately fluctuating between worrying about what he would say, how she would feel about it…and the warm, comfortable happiness of their new closeness. She just couldn't reconcile the excitement with the fear it might all…_what? End? No…_just that it would change things.

Gradually the contradiction had created a tension that had to break. She'd been close on Friday, when they'd so nearly argued…and it wasn't helping anyone, least of all her. Ellen had helped her to see that. She knew he would probably be working, that she wouldn't see him until Monday night, but at least now she wouldn't have driven five hours before having to prepare him dinner, and face whatever it was they needed to talk about.

She put some music on and tried to relax as she threaded her way down the country lanes towards the A12. She hadn't called him yet, she'd wait until she was closer. She wasn't coming back to see him today anyway, just to be at home, to calm herself down with the familiar._ God, I'm such a basket case._ She wasn't, of course, but for someone who spent her life so entirely in control of her emotions it was alarming, this sudden shift in her balance. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about him before…she had for many years…but it had always been so entirely one-sided, so controlled. Suddenly reality was beautifully and frighteningly imposing itself.

* * *

Robbie had dragged himself into the office at eight, only for Innocent to send him back off out to Faulkener's place with a few officers. By ten he was sat in the accused's office, surrounded by an ever increasing pile of open files. It wasn't that the evidence was lacking…they just wanted to sequester the lot before anyone thought to destroy something that might be used at a later date. The contents of the file in front of him was very damning. Lists of names, shipments, right down to the percentages of inert chemicals being used to cut the drugs. It made him slightly queasy, just the thought of it.

Just after midday he checked his watch and called time on the search. They packed the vans with over 30 evidence boxes, and he shuddered at the thought of so much paperwork. Not for the first time, his heart lifted at the prospect of a few days off, maybe with Laura. He hadn't mentioned it, not really, but he was due nearly a week off, all told, and he was hopeful they might spend some time together, just the two of them.

Gray was looking exhausted after four nights in a row, and so he put him out of his misery and sent him home to have a few hours rest. Grabbing his jacket, Lewis checked his phone, no messages. He frowned slightly, then pulled himself together. If she was sensible she'd still be curled up in bed. Now there was a nice thought…

* * *

Like any other driver, Laura positively loathed the M25. After nearly half an hour sat in very slow moving traffic she started to get bored. It was just after two, and she'd hoped to be nearly half-way there…but no. Gridlock. From the radio update it sounded like there had been an accident and some kind of diversion was backing everyone up. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it, and so, as she found herself crawling to a halt again, she reached into her bag and set up the hands-free.

* * *

He was driving back to the station when his phone buzzed.

"Lewis"

She grinned. It had been a while since she'd last heard that. She rather liked it…

"How's my favourite DI?"

"He's very well thank you, all the better for hearing from you. But he is just pulling in to the station car park…give him a half a second and he'll call you back."

She hung up and waited, pondering not for the first time whether there was anyone who made her smile as much as he did. She didn't have to wait long, and her phone flashed insistently,

"Managed to park that ridiculously sized car of yours?"

"Watch it, you…it's not that big. And I'm excellent at parking"

"Hmm…I've seen you in the station car park…it takes you ages"

He grinned, instantly lifted by their easy banter,

"Some of us like to take our time, do things carefully"

"We are still talking about the car, aren't we Robbie?"

For a moment he was speechless, before replying rather too calmly,

"Of course we are, _Laura_. Where are you? Escaped Ellen again?"

She smiled, hoping that he would be pleased,

"I'm coming home tonight Robbie…I'm stuck on the M25 now, which is…joyous"

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah…just wanted to sleep in my own bed"

"It is a very comfortable bed"

"Hmm….you noticed"

"Best night's sleep I'd had in months"

"Assuming the enormous traffic jam I'm currently sat in doesn't get any worse, I should be back around six…"

"I'm afraid I'm working…

"I know"

"…until about nine-ish"

"Oh"

He wondered for a moment whether he should give her some space, but couldn't help himself, he was too eager to see her,

"Would you like me to come over after?"

She paused, just for a moment, not really considering it, just hesitating at the decision she hadn't seen coming,

"Yes"

He waited, his practical mind thinking ahead, to the interviews scheduled for eight thirty on the Monday morning, not sure how to say it, opting for the obvious,

"Can I stay?"

Again she hesitated, without really knowing why, the answer already clear in her mind,

"Yes"

He smiled, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly,

"I'll have to leave early, we're interviewing first thing…"

"It's ok, I don't care…I just…"

She trailed off, the words now somehow inadequate to express the whirl of feelings that had been building all weekend.

"I know, pet…me too"

* * *

A/N - OK, I have a question... I'm sure you can all see where this is heading (*nudge nudge, wink wink*), but I'm undecided about whether to bump the rating up to a 'gentle' M (come on, this is Lewis...) or to keep it at a T. Does anyone have strong feelings either way? The whole 'game' of this story has been to keep it in canon, so I'm wary of going too full-on, but it _is_ shown after 9pm in the UK... ;) Answers on a postcard please x


	21. Chapter 21

The sun was beginning to set as Laura pulled up at the kerb outside her house. She lifted up the handbrake and eased out of gear, turning the engine off and sighed loudly. Truth be told, she was exhausted, but there was only one thing that would burn off the nervous tension that had been building during the long drive. Knowing any delay in her decision would end with her curling up on the sofa with a packet of chocolate biscuits though, she quickly emptied the car and went straight upstairs to change. Within five minutes, she had her trainers laced and her fluorescent jacket on, and she was out the door again.

It was starting to drizzle softly as she broke into a comfortable run, consciously lengthening her stride, stretching out her calves, the tension across her shoulders beginning to dissipate. She didn't plan to go too far, just a quick 5k to get some fresh air into her lungs, some clarity into her mind. She ran without music, at night it was safer, and fell quickly into a steady rhythm. It felt good to move, to feel her breath starting to catch. Her hangover had started to ease now, but the coffee had left an irritating buzz that could only be soothed by exertion. As she ran her mind calmed too, the emotions settling. He had surprised her earlier, offering to stay, but she felt strangely comfortable with the idea. She wouldn't push him too much, in any respect. He would no doubt be exhausted too and talking late into the night wouldn't help. As she crossed the river she picked up the pace a little, wanting to push herself just a bit more, starting to contemplate the warm soothing shower when she got home.

* * *

Back at the station, Lewis was working on his briefing sheets for the interviews due the following day. It was something he usually delegated to Hathaway, but with Gray only just finding his feet he had decided to take over and show him how to prepare them.

"And so the important thing is to keep the various lines of questioning clear, so that you can move between them if the interview goes in a different direction…I use numbers…"

"And then you can draw lines between them if things get connected?"

"Exactly…though to be honest, when I'm leading the questions, I let Hathaway scribble away…"

Gray smiled, nodding,

"Yes, sir"

They worked in silence for a few minutes, until Gray yawned loudly and apologised.

"It's alright, lad, we'll be finishing soon…might actually get some time to ourselves this evening!"

Gray took a sip of his Coke and smiled,

"Is your wife back tonight, sir?"

Lewis looked at him quickly, utterly confused. Gray set his can back on the desk, and began to mumble an awkward apology for intruding. The penny dropped and Lewis tried to make light of it,

"Laura isn't my wife, Gray…honestly, what are you like?"

"I'm sorry sir…I just assumed"

"Well, don't just assume"

He was curter than he intended, and he set his pen down, looking at the sergeant, wondering what to say,

"I'm sorry…it's just all a bit new"

Gray smiled warmly, trying to ease over the awkwardness,

"I'm sorry, I just assumed you'd been together for years…sorry sir"

Lewis smiled back, but the serious look never really left his eyes,

"It's ok…I suppose in a way we have. Looks like we'll make a detective of you yet…"

* * *

By 8, Lewis had nearly finished the interview prep, and had written up his notes from his earlier interviews with the mortuary staff. It was definitely all coming together now, and apart from the difficult task of talking to Liam about his father, which he'd finally done this afternoon, the case was taking a very satisfactory turn. For once, no loose ends, and they stood an excellent chance of getting a conviction.

He was immersed in the final set of notes when a head appeared in the doorway,

"You _are _going to head home this evening, aren't you Lewis?"

"Aww…never knew you cared, ma'am"

"I mean it Robbie, you're actually looking grey around the edges"

"I'll make sure I get a decent night's sleep"

She nodded, point made, and biting her lip slightly decided to go for it,

"Assuming all goes easily tomorrow, I'll shout you a drink in the White Horse after work…you can bring Hathaway too, if you like"

His face lit up and he grinned broadly,

"You're on"

"…oh, and Hobson, she can come too"

He'd already turned back to his notes, but he nodded, his expression entirely neutral,

"Sounds like a plan"

She eyed him suspiciously…_no, definitely not biting. Hmm…bugger._

* * *

After an hour of running - far more than she'd really intended - Laura arrived back at her front door. The drizzle had gradually increased, and by the time she arrived home, it was a persistent rain, and she was soaked through. She was utterly exhausted, but happy. There was nothing quite like a long run in the rain to give you that warm, contented feeling the second you step inside. Easing off her trainers and heading immediately upstairs, she stripped off quickly and jumped straight in the shower. The hot spray warmed her chilled skin, and she shivered slightly. _Quarter past seven._ There would be time for dinner, maybe some work, then it would be nine. She massaged some shower oil into her shoulders, the lavender and ginger scent immediately soothing the aches. _Should I make him dinner?_ She thought not…he would eat in the canteen, or on the hoof. And there were plenty of biscuits in the jar if he was really desperate.

She rinsed the conditioner off her hair and turned off the shower. Normally she'd just throw on some pyjamas, wrap a towel round her head, put on her slippers, but this evening she hesitated. It seemed like an important choice. She didn't want to wear anything too skimpy…for one, it was far too cold to sit around in lingerie all evening…and she really didn't want to make a fool of herself. But getting back into everyday clothes just felt wrong after a shower. And anyway, she'd have to change at some point…she was certainly not sleeping in her clothes again, even if Robbie did turn out to be a total gentleman. She smiled wryly, remembering the last time they had shared a bed. No, it didn't seem that likely that he would be prudish. So, pyjamas it was. With a nice warm wrap and some thick socks. She decided, for this evening at least, to forgo the fluffy rabbit slippers that Ellen had bought her for Christmas last year. He could enjoy that spectacle another night.

Padding round the bedroom she fussed with things. Straightening the books on her bedside table, plumping up the pillows, finding another blanket to drape. _Get a grip, Hobson._ She smiled to herself, pleasantly surprised that the nervous tension she'd felt all weekend was melting away and that the only feeling she now felt acutely was an exquisite anticipation. She decided against makeup, and simply ran the towel over her hair a few times. Not for the first time, she congratulated herself on a hairstyle that not only took no effort, but was positively improved with a windswept look.

* * *

Lewis finally left his desk at nine fifteen and headed straight home. Monty was yowling loudly as he slid the key into the lock, and proceeded to thread himself in and out of his legs as he walked to the kitchen,

"Sorry mate, I know…I know…"

He flicked on the light and grabbing the bowl, went in search of a tin. As was his habit, Monty immediately jumped up on the counter and head-butted Robbie's arm as he spooned the meat into the dish,

"Easy tiger…give me a sec"

Once the bowl was on the floor, Monty dived in, as always, face first. He wasn't fussy…curry, pasta, kebab…he'd eat anything. But he would also occasionally partake of some Whiskers if it was on offer. Shaking his head at the sounds coming from the bowl, Robbie headed into his bedroom to quickly pack a bag.

As he reemerged, Monty was still chomping, and for a moment he felt ever so slightly guilty. The end of a case always meant that he was out all hours, and for the most part the cat was oblivious. He was always out during the night, and had more than enough company with the family next door, if he really wanted it. But still…Sunday night was normally their night in._ For god's sake, man, it's a bloody cat._

"Right, mate, I'm off out again…and I'm going to ask Laura to feed you tomorrow morning."

Monty took a breather from inhaling his dinner and padded over for a quick stroke,

"You be on your best behaviour, though…I'm rather hoping that she might be sharing with us soon, so you be nice"

Monty burped loudly, and Robbie smiled,

"Thattaboy…"

* * *

A/N Many thanks for all the lovely reviews and suggestions - much appreciated! Do please let me know what you think if you have a moment ;o)


	22. Chapter 22

Even though she was expecting it…indeed perhaps because she was…the knock on the door made Laura jump. She was sitting curled up on the sofa, her notepad on her knee, drafting the initial paragraphs of an article on one of her recent cases and the early identification of glomerulonephritis. It was something she'd been meaning to start for a few weeks, and now that she'd cleaned the house, reorganised her kitchen drawers and tidied the living room, there really wasn't anything left to procrastinate with. She'd elected not to open any wine, which was usually her preferred route into academic writing...no, she wanted a clear head for when Robbie arrived. He was late, and although she was neither annoyed or worried about his delay, she kept finding herself glancing up at the clock. When the knock came, at quarter to ten, it startled her.

As she made her way to the door she flicked on the hall light and pulled her gown around her, tying it tightly. The key was in the lock, and just for a second before she turned it, she couldn't resist looking at him through the peephole. He looked tired, he was still in his suit…but he was smiling broadly. She felt the blood thumping in her ears, as her heart began to race, and instantly scolded herself for behaving like a teenager. She opened the door carefully, and stepped back to welcome him in.

"Sorry I'm late…"

She shook her head, dismissing his apology, stepping back,

"You're not. Everything ok at work?"

He followed her into the house, and as she closed the door behind her, he draped his suit jacket over the banister,

"Everything's fine. Good actually…I think we're nearly there"

She nodded, her hand reaching out to his upper arm, squeezing gently,

"Good"

He smiled back, and, sensing her slight awkwardness, held out his arms,

"Come 'ere you…"

She stepped forward and his arms wrapping tightly around her as she nuzzled into his chest. Suddenly, she felt calm, balance restored. His hand was stroking her hair.

"I'll still have to head out early tomorrow…"

She mumbled against his shirt that it didn't matter.

"…but I can't say you're not a sight for sore eyes"

She smiled, and pulled back slightly to look up at him.

"What…?"

She grinned, a mischievous sparkle in her eye, and shook her head,

"Nothing…I just missed you so much and that idea still slightly amuses me"

He grinned back, carefully brushing her fringe away from her eyes, knowing exactly what she meant. It was still strange. Good, but strange.

"Me too, pet"

He kissed her forehead deliberately and then fixed her with a serious look,

"I could murder a cup of tea, though…and I was wondering if I might borrow your shower for five minutes…you really don't want to know how long I've been wearing this shirt"

Laura wrinkled her nose and pretended to consider the request seriously,

"Well, you know I'm pretty much inured to the early signs of decomposition…"

"Ha ha, very funny. I'm serious, I smell like a…"

"Policeman…yep, you do. Be my guest…"

She stepped back and gestured towards the stairs,

"I'll put the kettle on, make you a 'brew'"

Her attempt at his accent was pathetic but it amused him nonetheless,

"You making fun of me woman?"

She grinned, reaching up and kissing him quickly on the lips, the tension broken,

"Nope, far too easy when you're this knackered"

As if on command, he yawned loudly,

"Be nice to an old man"

She picked up the bag he'd brought and handed it to him theatrically, before turning him around and nudging him in the direction of the shower.

* * *

The water was still running when Laura sat down on her bed, mug of tea in hand. She'd turned on the bedside lamp and was half-reading a battered copy of Angela Carter's collected short stories. She sipped her tea and set the mug back on the table, crossing her legs and resting back against the large pile of cushions. The water stopped and she looked up, wondering again if she'd judged this right. She put the book down, slipped off her reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She could hear him padding around, probably trying to find things and she smiled to herself. He was humming something, not quite discernible, but he was definitely humming.

* * *

The door to the en-suite swung open and he wandered out in his boxers, a towel looped over his arm. He started a little, obviously not expecting an audience, but smiled and raised an eyebrow,

"Hello…"

She smiled back and nodded her head towards the large mug of tea and plate of biscuits on 'his' side of the bed,

"Do you mind?"

He looked at her a little quizzically, surely she didn't mean the biscuits?

"Going to bed now..."

A broad grin spread across his face, and for a moment he wondered if she was joking,

"Why on earth would I mind that, woman?"

She rolled her eyes and picked up her mug of tea.

Robbie tried not to look too keen as he dried his hair, but he could feel the warmth spreading across his shoulders, down his back. She was watching him closely, a calm expression on her face. He wondered for a moment if she'd forgotten their earlier promise and, his breath catching a little, he knew he had to ask,

"But we need to talk, Laura"

She smiled slightly and nodded, the mischievous sparkle in her eyes,

"I know…I know. I was hoping we could do that here. I'm exhausted and I really don't want to make you carry me up the stairs again"

She was trying to be casual, but now he looked closely he could see she was nervous. Her hand was toying with the trim of one of the pillows and she was biting her lip. Although he normally preferred not to know when people were trying to hide their emotions when he was off-duty, for once he was thankful for his interview training. He finished drying his hair roughly with the towel, and tossing it over the back of the door, walked purposefully to the bed. He didn't join her on the bedspread, though, but pulled back the duvet, slid himself in and groaned dramatically as he stretched out under the covers.

Laura rolled her eyes again, and set her mug down on the table,

"You really don't want to know how much this mattress cost…"

He grinned, his eyes still shut as he enjoyed the sensation of total relaxation,

"Worth every penny"

She smiled indulgently and sat back against the cushioned headboard. He looked shattered, and not for the first time she wondered if it might just be better to turn off the light and go to sleep. As if reading her mind, though, he shifted over onto his side and placing a hand gently on her arm, tugged gently,

"So…are you getting in then, woman, or do I need to drag you under the covers?"

* * *

As she curled up against him, his arms solid around her, Laura felt the most relaxed she had been in days. There was just something extremely reassuring about being next to him, held by him. It all felt so completely natural that the fears which had earlier felt so acute now seemed ridiculous. What did it matter anymore? He was here now, and she just knew that he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. Whatever it was that had made him run before, it didn't matter now. Her eyes were drifting shut, as his gravelly voice tickled her ear,

"So where do you want to start?"

His fingers were tracing a lazy pattern against the bare skin of her shoulder, and he had propped himself up on an elbow. She sighed loudly, and leant back into him,

"I don't know, Robbie…"

And she really didn't. Suddenly it all felt unimportant and old history. All she wanted was this, to lie here, snuggled up next to him, and not to move for at least a week. He shifted slightly, his hand sliding down her arm to hold her hand,

"Laura…"

His voice was low and calm, but the question was unmistakable.

"I know…Ligeia…after that"

He sighed audibly, and she felt his lips press gently against her shoulder as his fingers wrapped around hers,

"I'm sorry…really sorry"

She interlaced their fingers and bringing his hand to her lips, kissed them,

"There's no need for apologies, I just want to know what happened"

He turned her slightly, the back of her head coming to rest on the pillow, until she was looking up at him,

"I ran away"

She nodded carefully, her eyes never leaving his,

"From me?"

He smiled sadly,

"No Laura, from me…"

She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the concern plainly visible in her eyes.

"What happened Robbie?"

He paused, and swallowed, his eyes never leaving hers,

"What I told you last week at the Randolph wasn't entirely true…"

She slid her hand down to his chest, her fingers cool against his warm skin,

"Which bit?"

"You asked me how long…"

"I did"

"And I lied"

He was still looking at her, his gaze intense but sad, and she simply nodded, not entirely trusting herself,

"I've felt this way about you for a very long time, Laura…maybe I didn't always want to admit it, not entirely…but I have"

Tears pricked her eyes and, irritated, she swept her hand across her face, wiping them away,

"Before I was attacked?"

He smiled sadly, brushing her fringe back from her eyes, his fingers lightly caressing her cheek,

"Before everything"

For a moment she was utterly confused, the calm acceptance in his eyes belying the painful truth of his words,

"Before what?"

"Everything"

She sat up, her mind refusing to accept the simple statement,

"I don't understand"

He smiled sadly, his hand stroking her back, easing her back down to lie next to him, kissing her gently on her forehead, the bridge of her nose,

"Come on, love…how could I not?"

"But…"

The weight of his confession was suddenly acute. _All these years._

"I know…"

She didn't need to probe further. She knew exactly what he was saying, what he was admitting. _Oh Robbie_. No wonder he'd struggled so much. He had nothing to feel guilty about, of course, he had never acted on his feelings when Val was alive, not once. But still. She wrapped her arm around him, and nuzzled into the hollow of his neck, curling herself into a ball. His arm folded her closer into him, his chin coming to rest on the top of her head. For a long moment they just lay there, listening to each other's breathing, until she realised that she had to ask, had to finish this,

"And so the twins?"

Her voice was quiet, only a whisper against his ear and his own voice sounded loud by comparison,

"Were a horrible mess that I made worse from start to finish…"

She shook her head slightly,

"It wasn't your fault, how could it be? I just…" she hesitated, realising how pathetic it all sounded, how needy, "…just don't understand why you didn't…"

"Why didn't I pull you out of that hole myself?"

She nodded, pressing a kiss to his chest, wanting to ease the pain of her question the moment it was asked.

"Guilt mainly…I'd been so certain that you had nothing to hide, that I knew you better than anyone else, that you were closer to me than anyone else…and then I saw that entry in the hospital register. I read it with my own eyes. I was so angry, so hurt by the idea that you hadn't told me, I never even stopped to question what it meant, what it might mean. That there might be an alternative. I was just thinking about myself, my own hurt feelings, feeling betrayed even though I had no right to…and then once I saw what had happened…"

She flinched slightly, remembering the moment she had heard the window smash, the speed with which they'd grabbed her, the tape going over her mouth and the hood over her head. He pulled her closer, his thumb wiping away the tear that had fallen,

"I panicked…when I realised that they had taken you I panicked. I knew exactly what they were capable of"

She pressed her forehead into his chest again, drawing comfort and trying to give it,

"It was all my fault, and the only thing I could think of was getting myself as far away from you as possible"

She pulled back slightly and looked up at him, the disagreement visible in her eyes,

"It was my fault Laura…if I'd not been so tied up in how I felt about you, so protective of you, what you thought of me, I would have asked you the questions I needed to far sooner and we would have discovered the truth before they'd taken you"

"And you saw all this before you even got to the scene?"

"Clear as day. I was driving at 75mph down the Woodstock road and all I could think about was the look on your face when I asked you where you'd been the night of the first murder"

"And so you told Hathaway to pull me out?"

Her voice was serious now, but not angry, simply resigned.

"I couldn't face what I'd done. I…I did come to the hospital…they were cleaning the cuts on your face, Hathaway was sat on the bed next to you, his arm around you. I couldn't talk to you, not with him there…I…"

She nodded, understanding now.

"I went back to the station. Stayed there all night…trying to work out what we'd missed. What I'd missed."

He was talking freely now, unburdening himself of everything he'd kept hidden, and she felt herself relaxing. _This was it, there was nothing more, they would be ok._

"I was too close to it all. I couldn't see things clearly…I'd seen what being like that had done to Morse. I handed in my resignation to Innocent that afternoon, but she told me to think about it. Told me I was being an idiot. So I took a couple of weeks off. Went up to see Lynne, walked around the Moors a lot."

"Did you tell Hathaway?"

"Nah…just made an excuse about needing a holiday. Told him to keep an eye on you."

"He did, you know…"

"I know"

Robbie sat up slightly, his back coming to rest against the pile of cushions, and she allowed herself to be pulled up against him, his arms wrapping round her again, a kiss pressed to the back of her head,

"So why did you come back?"

He smiled, and kissed her again,

"Two things…first, I realised that the only reason I'd got it so spectacularly wrong about the twins was because I was too close to you…and logically I figured that the likelihood of you being involved in another murder was small…"

"Unless you or Hathaway were the victims"

He smiled, the relief at having been so honest surging through him, and he found himself laughing,

"Quite…and secondly, being entirely selfish, I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing you again."

The words hung in the silence and she took a deep, shaky breath,

"Why didn't you say anything, Robbie?"

"I….couldn't. It seemed so unfair to burden you with all my problems, to ask so much of you after I'd treated you like that, run away, left Hathaway to look after you. I was a mess. My reaction to questioning you made that clear to me. If that happened now, I'd just ask, we'd get it done straight away, I wouldn't have left your side...a lot has changed. I've changed"

"And so you decided what? Just to keep your distance, be friends?"

"It wasn't my finest hour"

"I just wish I'd had a chance to talk you out of it…"

He kissed her head again, his lips lingering against her soft hair,

"I know…me too"

She waited a moment, her fingers wrapping around his, lifting his hand to her lips,

"So is that it...nothing more?"

He sighed, his fingers caressing her chin, tilting her head up, his words murmured against her lips,

"Nothing more...just this"

* * *

A/N - OK, next chapter will be M - if that's not your thing, then do the sensible thing and don't read it. Similarly, if that IS your thing, don't get too excited...this is Lewis. I will be keeping it roughly inline with what would happen on screen...there will be no swinging from chandeliers or gratuitous leather ;)

PS. I really agonised about some of this chapter - would be great to hear if you liked it! :)


	23. Chapter 23

A/N - OK, so this is an entirely optional (for plot) interlude, rated T/M... it's suggestive, and not at all explicit. Much like the characters themselves ;o)

* * *

The room was dark when Laura opened her eyes. She was hot, too hot…wrapped in her thick pyjamas, under the duvet, with a large, very warm man holding her tight against his chest. Her mouth was dry and she could feel the beginning of a headache coming. She _would_ have felt guilty, risking waking him as she extricated herself, but as another loud snore resonated in her ear she was certain that it was he who had woken her. Gently, she lifted his arm and rolled him over. He mumbled something, and then settled again. She smiled indulgently, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and slipped quietly out of the bed.

Once she had shut the bathroom door, she flicked on the light. The brightness hurt her eyes, but they soon adjusted. It was far too hot for pyjamas, and after a weekend in the igloo that was Ellen's house, her body was seriously overheated. For a moment she stood naked in front of the mirror, contemplating her reflection. She saw naked bodies on an almost daily basis in her line of work and nudity really didn't faze her. Bodies were bodies. Hers was lithe, always had been, but it was softening as she got older. She wasn't sure if she minded or not. It was a long time since anyone had seen her like this. Biting her lip and frowning slightly as she pondered that thought, she reached out and grabbed the long nightshirt that she normally wore. She slipped the cool cotton over her head and pulled the sleeves down. It fell just above the knee, perfectly decent, but it wasn't something she'd answer the door in. She ran her hand through her hair again, trying to smooth it down a little.

There was a glass on the counter, and she filled it with cold water. Sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet she sipped it slowly. She still couldn't entirely believe that he had loved her for such a long time. That he could have gone all those years without saying anything. That he could have tied himself up in such knots. But it made sense. The more the thought sank in, the more it made sense. It both thrilled her and broke her heart. _Could she say the same about him?_ No, she couldn't. When they'd first met she'd liked him, of course she had…but he had been married and she'd never seriously asked herself that question. When Val had died, she'd wanted to look after him, had cared a lot…but no, it wasn't the same. When he'd left for the BVI, practically without a word, though, she'd been very upset. She remembered the job offer in Durham, the temptation to leave had been strong, get away from it all. But even that had felt more like guilt, guilt that she hadn't been able to help her friend. No, it was when he came back, when her heart raced in spite of that ridiculous bloody shirt that the penny had finally dropped. She drained the glass and set it back carefully on the marble. _Eight years. For god's sake, what a pair…_ She stood and stretched out her shoulders, rubbing out the kinks, before yawning loudly. She had no idea what time it was, but she knew exactly where she wanted to be.

* * *

As the light clicked off in the bathroom, Robbie smiled to himself. He'd woken the moment she rolled him over, feeling the warm press of her lips on his forehead, and he'd been waiting for the past ten minutes for her to finish whatever the hell she was up to in there. The moonlight was streaming in through the gap in the curtains, and as the bathroom door opened, he could see her standing there, blinking in the unaccustomed darkness. She had changed…gone were the heavy pyjamas, and instead she was wearing something that looked unmistakably like a man's shirt. It covered her modesty, but only just. He allowed himself a small smile, and shifted slightly in the bed. _Two could play at that game._

She slipped into the bed carefully, obviously trying not to wake him. As she settled into the pillow, though, he reached out and ran his hand down from her shoulder to her fingers, his body coming to rest against her,

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

She tensed almost imperceptibly at the compliment, and slowly, she rolled over on to her side, blinking a little,

"Did I wake you?"

He shook his head, cupping her cheek in his palm before pressing a kiss to her lips. As the kiss deepened he slid his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly caressing the soft cotton, playing with the cuff, pushing it up. His fingers swept up again, tracing little circles on her warm skin,

"No…I don't sleep that well, it's what shift work does to you"

His hand moved from her arm to her shoulder, smoothing the fabric against the curve of her back, his lips teasing hers in playful kisses,

"Would I be right in thinking there's nothing under this shirt?"

He felt her smile against his lips,and she hesitated for a moment, teasing him,

"I wouldn't say that…"

The words rumbled in his throat,

"Wouldn't you…"

Slowly, teasingly, his hand edged lower, over the curve of her bottom, down her upper thigh, until it found the edge of the fabric. Her breath caught a little and he smiled to himself. His fingers ran carefully along the seam of the shirt, in a delicate line across her thigh, tracing its edge. Her hand slid up his cheek, pressing his lips once again to hers,

"Robbie…"

He smiled again, and slid his hand under the shirt, skimming his fingers up her leg until his hand cupped her bottom, caressing it gently.

"OK?"

She smiled, kissing him again, her lips lingering, playfully nibbling his,

"More than ok…"

He squeezed her bottom mischievously and she reciprocated with another lingering kiss. As the kiss deepened, he slid his hand further up her back, the shirt now riding up around her waist. As he reached the delicate curve of her spine, his thumb skimmed across her stomach, coming to rest against the soft swell of her breast.

"Do I need to ask for a further clarification on your second date policy?"

She giggled, her delicate fingers running through his hair,

"Well…the policy is usually quite strict…"

He groaned, his thumb slowly sweeping across the underside of her breast,

"Have pity on an old man…"

She smiled and tapped him on the nose, before replying in her most patronising voice,

"Well, I'm sure we could make an exception in your case"

He smiled back, finding her lips with his own again, before very deliberately running the pad of his thumb over her nipple, amused when she moaned softly against him,

"Oh god…yes definitely an exception, just this once"

He chuckled a little and did it again, eliciting an almost identical response,

"You aren't going to play mean, are you DI Lewis?"

Her voice was teasing but not a little ragged, and his body reacted immediately as her hand left his shoulder and started to slide down his chest. She paused, and he slid his own hand to the small of her back, pulling her towards him,

"Come 'ere you…"

He kissed her soundly as he rolled her body flush against his, his hand sliding back down to her bottom, holding her close against him, and he felt as much as heard the sharp intake of breath as she felt his warmth,

"Robert Lewis, are you naked!?"

He sniggered, wincing as she pretended to smack his arm,the movement only serving to press his arousal closer against her warm skin,

"You're not going to get all prudish on me now, are you Dr Hobson?"

She paused for a moment, as if weighing her options, before slowly hooking her leg around him, the sensation causing them both to shiver,

"No…I just think I should carry out a more thorough examination…"

* * *

A/N - And I shall leave the rest to your overactive imaginations... ;) Feedback would be MUCH appreciated on this chapter - first timer alert! Oo-er.


	24. Chapter 24

When Laura next woke, the room was lit by the small lamp on her bedside table and Robbie was lying next to her, propped up on his elbow, his fingers gently stroking her hair,

"Morning beautiful, sleep well?"

She looked extremely contented, her eyes still sleepy, squinting a little at the light,

"Mmm…like a baby"

"Good…I'm gonna have to go soon"

She smiled, her eyes drifting shut again, rolling her face into the soft pillow,

"I know, it's ok..what time is it?

"Nearly seven…"

She groaned, yawned loudly and rubbed her eyes,

"Sorry, I'm not normally like this in the morning…"

He grinned and kissed her on the forehead, brushing her fringe back,

"It's ok…I'm sorry I have to go"

She stretched out an arm and wrapped it tightly around his waist, her face snuggling into his shoulder. Already she couldn't imagine waking up without him, and that thought was both thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. His heavy arm wrapped around her back and she pressed a sleepy kiss to his neck,

"Are you sure you need to do these interviews?"

Her voice was almost child-like and smiling to himself, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head,

"Sorry pet, the baddies won't catch themselves"

She smiled and kissing him again, ran her hand down his chest, slipping under the duvet,

"That's a shame…"

Quickly, his hand covered hers and brought it back to his lips,

"Yes it is"

She smirked and admitting defeat hoisted herself up to lean on her elbow, looking up at him mischievously. The way he looked at her was different this morning, the faint wariness that had always been there was gone. She'd never been able to put her finger on it before, not exactly. But this morning there was a calmness, an openness that she'd not seen before. He was smiling at her now, pressing kisses to the back of her hand,

"There is time for this though…"

He rolled her back carefully and gently kissed her lips, teasing and playful at first, then more purposeful. She smiled against his lips and ran her hand through his hair, kissing him back. His hand slid down her side, settling at the the curve of her waist, his thumb lightly caressing her warm skin,

"And this…"

He kissed her cheek, his lips brushing a trail of kisses to her ear,

"And this…"

He kissed her lips again, and her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down towards her. Finally, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead and attempted to retreat,

"But I do need to make a move"

"Are you really going to leave me like this?"

She wasn't cross, not really, but he couldn't help but be amused by the obvious frustration in her eyes,

"I did warn you…"

He gave her a chaste peck on the lips and extracted himself from her loosening grip,

"I have to go to work Laura…"

She pouted_…dear God she actually pouted…_and he tried not to laugh. Gingerly, he padded towards the bathroom to have a quick shower and retrieve his clothes.

* * *

When he reemerged he wasn't surprised to see that she was still lying in bed, her shirt now carefully buttoned, a large mug in her hand, glasses resting on the end of her nose, her laptop precariously balanced on her knee. He fished in his trouser pocket for his tie and stood in front of the mirror to put it on,

"Am I still invited for dinner?"

He could see her reaction in the mirror, and unaware of his gaze she smiled to herself and bit her lip, obviously contemplating a sufficiently teasing reply,

"Maybe"

She didn't even look up, but continued to tap away. He watched her surreptitiously, still not quite believing how far they had come in the past week…that finally everything had fallen into place and that by some ridiculous turn of fate this beautiful woman actually loved him back. He was lost in his daydream, his fingers mechanically working the silk into a knot, when she looked up and caught him staring. She smiled, raising an eyebrow questioningly, before replying somewhat grudgingly,

"OK, yes… Obviously"

He grinned and tucked his shirt into his trousers,

"And may I stay over again please?"

As he looked back in the mirror, she was still looking at him, a flicker of amusement now clearly visible,

"I was rather hoping that was a given"

* * *

She followed him as he walked down the stairs, and she went into the kitchen to make another cup of coffee, smirking slightly to herself as he visibly winced when picking up his holdall. She really couldn't resist, and asked innocently,

"Bad back, darling?"

He sighed loudly, immediately picking up the slightly teasing tone in her voice, and followed her into the kitchen. His arm wrapped around her from behind as she spooned coffee into the cafetiere,

"In my defence, your honour, it's not my fault. I was taken advantage of by a much younger woman"

She reached for another mug and a teabag, and ignoring the warm lips nuzzling her neck asked in her most disinterested voice,

"Really dear...and how did that work out for you?"

His arm was tight around her now, his other hand brushed her hair behind her ear as he kissed her cheek,

"It was bloody fantastic, since you're asking"

She twisted slightly to kiss him back,and before she could really protest, she'd been turned round completely and was being very soundly kissed indeed. The kettle pinged off, and she placed a hand on his chest, trying to catch her breath,

"So would you like a cup of tea before you go, or do you need to run?"

He smiled and shook his head,

"I really need to run…"

"OK, so I'll see you this evening?"

He kissed her forehead lightly,

"Mmmmm"

"Good"

"OK…I really should go"

"I know…"

He kissed her once more on the forehead and went to retrieve his suit jacket from the stairs. Looking in his pocket for his car keys, he suddenly remembered something,

"Can I ask you a favour, pet?"

She was pouring her coffee, but she turned and smiled, the softness of his endearment somehow meaning more now, raising an eyebrow.

"Could you feed Monty?

* * *

After he'd gone, she sat at the kitchen table for a long time, just staring into the garden. Everything had shifted slightly on its axis and the familiar view helped to ground her a little. She wrapped the thin dressing gown around her and sipped her coffee. The whole day stretched out in front of her, and Laura was feeling unusually inclined just to relax. Normally she would have been out for a run by now, or maybe out for a ride at the local stables. She wasn't one to sit around, especially on a day off, but today a moment's peace seemed important. He had surprised her last night, in many ways. She smiled to herself, remembering how he'd told her he loved her and the look of childish surprise in his eyes when she'd admitted the same._ How could he even have doubted her?_ She felt tears prick slightly at her eyes, and she thought again about his confession, how he'd held her at arm's length for so long. _How could she not have seen what was going on?_ If she'd only realised, maybe she could have talked to him after Ali's death. If she was honest, she'd known back then that there was something between them. Something important. The way he had looked at her just after he'd seen the body, an intensity she'd never seen before. It had only been a few months after her attack, though, and she had been wary, she'd held back. They'd had that awkward dinner, sat at this table and they'd just ignored the obvious tension between them. She'd drunk too much, in a vague attempt to liven things up, but they'd ended up watching a Bond film, neither particularly enjoying it, and then she'd packed him off home. She put her head in her hands and groaned softly, _God, how did we get it so wrong?_

The church clock rang out nine and she drained the last of her coffee, chiding herself for being so bloody maudlin. There was no point in regretting things now. All in all, last night had been perfect, and absolutely worth waiting for. And this evening, well, this evening would be even better…


	25. Chapter 25

Robbie had only driven a couple of hundred yards down the road before he pulled over to the kerb. His head was pounding and he could feel his heart beginning to race. It was all just a bit too much and he knew he had to compose himself before he drove to work. He turned the engine off, slumped a little over the wheel and sighed deeply, a long shuddering breath. Not a man used to outbursts of emotion, he wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself. He wasn't upset, far from it, just, well, overwhelmed… Although he'd breezed through the past week, the reality of telling Laura how he felt was just beginning to sink in and he was finding it impossible to think of anything else. All he wanted to do was turn the car around, march right back in there and hold her against him until his brain caught up with events. But he couldn't, and he needed to get a grip on his emotions. He took another deep breath, and rubbed his eyes, trying to ease the tension forming. The dashboard clock was five minutes fast, but nonetheless he knew that he would be at least fifteen minutes late now. The interviews weren't scheduled to start until nine, but he'd wanted to be at his desk early to brief Gray. He sighed again, and reached into his pocket for his phone,

"Morning Gray, are you at the station yet?"

The lad was keen and in truth he already knew the answer,

"Yes sir, just sorting out the secondary witness statements"

"Good…listen, I'm running a bit late, lad, would you be able to get me a coffee and a bacon sandwich from the canteen…sorry to ask but…"

Gray smiled to himself, wondering if his boss's lateness had anything to do with Dr Hobson's return,

"It's ok, sir…I understand. Will you still be ok to start at nine?"

"Aye, that's no problem…I'll be there by quarter to…I just forgot how bad the traffic was on this side of town"

Gray elected not to ask to which of town he was referring and grinned broadly,

"No problem then sir, breakfast will be on your desk when you arrive – red or brown sauce?"

Robbie chuckled, and, feeling a bit more like himself replied,

"Brown, you philistine…honestly, lad…."

After he hung up, Robbie felt a little more relaxed. And not just because the prospect of breakfast made the forthcoming interviews more bearable. He liked Gray, he was calm and straightforward. Not a patch on Hathaway in the brains department, obviously, but he would make an excellent member of the team. It was a shame he was only on secondment really. He switched on the radio and started the engine. Talking to Gray had somehow drawn a line under the morning and got him into work mode. He really couldn't think about Laura today, as much as he wanted to. He had to concentrate on the matter in hand. Faulkner was a crook, it was plain to see, and this was the best opportunity they'd had in years to finally nail him. And then, when he had charged him, he could go home and take some time off. Perfect. As he indicated to turn out of Laura's road, he realised that he couldn't stop smiling.

* * *

It was just after ten when Laura arrived at Robbie's house. As she closed the front door, Monty poked his head around the living room door and purring loudly, stalked over to rub her legs,

"Hello trouble…sorry I'm late"

She reached down and ran her hand along his back, before tickling behind his ears. He purred more insistently and she scooped him up into her arms. In spite of his size, he was mainly fur, and she carried him easily into the kitchen. He rubbed his face against her chin affectionately and she chided him for taking liberties,

"Honestly, you're as bad as your owner…"

She set him down carefully on the kitchen counter, and as she hunted for a tin opener he dashed out of the room. As she was setting the bowl down he returned, and with what might best be described as a proud look on his face, dropped a large, very dead shrew at her feet. She didn't scream - Laura never did - but she bent down to have a closer look. The tiny brown creature was curled up tightly, probably dead from fright, and Monty was gently prodding it with his left paw.

"I suppose I should say thank you, young man, but technically I'm off duty"

Monty purred loudly, and sauntered over to his bowl to begin breakfast, leaving Laura to deal with the scene of the crime. She smiled, in spite of herself, and wrapping the little body in some kitchen roll, took it outside to the bins. A grim end for a beautiful animal, but she couldn't risk Monty bringing it back inside again. Robbie wasn't exactly brilliant with human remains, and she was pretty certain that a decomposing rodent on his carpet wouldn't go down too well. As she closed the lid of the bin, she couldn't help but notice that there were several new raised beds in the corner of the garden. Curiosity piqued, she wandered over, and was surprised to see several rows of winter greens planted up, along with some parsnips and carrots. She wasn't sure what shocked her most, that Robbie had actually made himself a vegetable patch…or that he might actually eat vegetables. Both were interesting new discoveries that she filed away for future discussion.

As she walked back into the house, she noticed that Monty had finished the bowl of food and disappeared. She locked the back door and gathering her things, prepared to leave. Not wanting to go without a final stroke though, she tried the half-open door to the bedroom. The curtains were open, and curled up, right in the middle of the bed, was an extremely contented cat. Smiling, she stepped in and put her bag down on a chair, before, joining the sleepy cat on the duvet. As she ran her fingers over the soft fur, she looked around. She'd never once stepped into Robbie's bedroom before. Even though she'd fed Monty countless times over the last few years, she'd never crossed this particular boundary. It hadn't felt right. Not so much an invasion of his privacy, but more a dangerous incursion into her own feelings. It had meant too much. It had simply been easier to stay in the kitchen, to pop in and out, just like a friendly neighbour, rather than confront her feelings for him. Today, though, it felt different. The pale sunlight was spilling into the room, and she was amused to see a neat pile of shirts, all ironed and folded, sat on the chest of drawers. His shoes were lined up under the radiator, next to a small set of dumbbells. _Typical boy_. His house was part of a Victorian terrace and, like all the rooms, his bedroom had an original fireplace. The surround was beautiful, the tiles blue and green, and some kind of elaborate light-fitting sat in the grate. But what drew her eye most was the selection of pictures on the mantelpiece. Pressing a quick kiss to Monty's sizeable rump, she stood and wandered over to investigate. There were several of Val, one with the whole family, and one of his daughter with her baby. And much to her surprise there was another picture, of her and James. He must have taken it at her birthday party, more years ago than she cared to remember. _God, she'd been drunk that night._ She picked up the small frame and looked closely. It was a good picture, in spite of the free-flowing gin. James looked like a teenager, his arm somewhat awkwardly draped around her shoulders. She didn't even remember Robbie having a camera with him that evening.

She set the frame down carefully, and moved to the other feature of the room that had genuinely surprised her. Bookshelves. Proper old-fashioned, inset bookshelves. Filled with volume after volume. They covered the best part of the main wall and she was extremely curious to see their contents. If she'd ever wanted to know how Robbie spent all those evenings alone, the answer was surely here. He'd been reading. A lot. She ran her finger along the middle shelf, reading the titles on the spines. There was a lot of Dickens, and plenty more of the classics. A large compendium of Sherlock Holmes made her smile, as did a copy of The Murders in the Rue Morgue. There was a lot of modern fiction, some of it she knew, other authors she didn't. He seemed to like Borges and Calvino, as well as Orwell and Ford Madox Ford. And Laura, a little ashamed by her reaction, was astounded. The books were well-thumbed. This wasn't a 'decorative' library so commonly seen at her friends' houses…this was proper collection, of many years' worth of reading.

A little overwhelmed, Laura sat back down on the bed, and stretched out. _All these years, and never once had he mentioned a book he was reading. Did Hathaway have any idea?_ She considered it for a moment. _Yes, he probably did_. She loved James, but he wasn't the easiest person to talk to sometimes. _Maybe they bonded over literature?_ She smiled to herself, and curled up on the duvet, her face pressed into the now-familiar scent of his pillow. There was so much that she didn't know about him. But whereas before that lack of knowledge had terrified her, had felt like a huge space between them, now she was just excited at the prospect of learning more. Monty stretched out next to her, his warm back resting against her side, and she sighed,

"Oh god, not you too…honestly, I will be asleep soon if you keep that up"

She yawned loudly and pulling herself up, extracted herself from under the cat. He purred loudly to express his disapproval and she gave him a quick stroke,

"Sorry Monty, time for me to go and sort out dinner for the other one…"

As she stood, she noticed for the first time the small pile of cards on his bedside table. Immediately, she recognised the card on the top of the pile, she'd sent it to him on his birthday last month. It was nothing significant, just a birthday day, but he'd kept it and the thought pleased her. She reached out and picked it up, smiling as she re-read the inscription. Placing it back on the pile, though, she realised that the next card was also vaguely familiar. A Christmas card from last year. Picking up the pile, she looked through the cards…there were twenty one in total, all from her at various events over the years. He'd kept them all. Laura was seldom speechless, but had anyone asked at this moment for an explanation, she would have been entirely lost. It was such a simple gesture, to keep the cards, but it demonstrated so clearly what he'd told her last night that it literally took her breath away. Wiping away a stray tear, she carefully placed the cards back on the table. She swallowed deliberately and looked around the room. There was an irony to it…so many words here, and yet so much silence. She smirked wryly to herself…_bloody hell, all this literature has got me thinking in aphorisms._ She stood and straightened her jeans out, before running a quick hand down Monty's back,

"Right, now I'm really going…I'll make sure he feeds you tonight, and then maybe we can start discussing the possibility of you making a visit to my house, hmm?"

* * *

A/N - Thanks for all the lovely reviews so far - please do comment if you have a moment, it's great fun reading your responses! :)


	26. Chapter 26

By two, Laura was back home and beavering away in the kitchen. After leaving Robbie's, she'd driven to the supermarket for supplies, and had come back via the office to pick up the some of the lab reports she would need to really make a start on her paper. Although she certainly appreciated when she wasn't on call, Laura rarely drew a strong line between being at work and being on holiday. She enjoyed her research and she rarely had enough time to spend on it when in the office. With any luck, she could sort out dinner first and then have a few hours to check over some of the data sets.

An array of cookbooks was spread across the kitchen table, the result of her morning's other research, but in the end she had opted for the obvious. A curry, of course. She wondered when was the last time he'd actually eaten a proper curry and smiled. He was in for a treat. Her grandfather had served in India and he'd brought home a taste for curry that her grandmother had instilled in her own children. No one made a curry like Laura's father, and she'd spent many hours watching him cook over the years. She'd chosen beef, and planned to make some garlic naan bread before she started on her reading.

As she stood at the stove, frying off the onions, she pondered on how domestic this all felt. She loved to cook, and often invited friends over for dinner, but it was a long time since she last cooked for a boyfriend. _Boyfriend_. It still didn't feel right to call him that, she wondered if it ever would. It seemed faintly ridiculous and woefully insufficient. She added the chunks of meat to the pan and carried on stirring. It was nice, making something for someone else, and she felt herself relaxing, enjoying the routine. Ever since her trip to his house, she'd been thinking about the future, she couldn't help it. She knew it was premature, she knew she was jumping ahead, but still. _How would this work?_ He couldn't keep staying over indefinitely, it just wouldn't be practical, _but what was the alternative?_ Her mind was racing ahead now…_would he want to move in?_ She simply couldn't imagine leaving her house, her garden…_but was there space for him here? Would he even want to live with her?_ She smirked, chucking a handful of carefully selected spices into the pan. She wasn't exactly easy to live with, she knew that. She worked all hours, she hardly slept – the last few days had to be an exception – and she was used to things being done 'her' way. It wasn't that she was obsessive or anything, she just wasn't used to having anyone around.

She sighed loudly and rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. It simply wouldn't do to keep getting wound up like this. It wasn't helping. She bit her lip, trying to concentrate on the large dish in front of her. It was beginning to bubble gently, and she turned the heat down slightly, before adding the coconut milk. The smell was deliciously evocative, and instantly she remembered her father sitting her on the workbench to watch as he prepared his curry. Her mother had disapproved, of course, leaving a small child so close to the sharp knives and temptingly vibrant red chilies, but she'd loved watching him cook. She should call him really, tell him about Robbie. She smiled to herself, knowing already his reaction. He'd be thrilled, and they would get on famously. Dad was well past disapproving of her choice of an older man, he'd just be pleased that she'd finally found someone to look after her. She heaped in another generous chili and wondered idly how much heat Robbie could take. _Someone to look after her._ Until recently that thought would have made her queasy. She prided herself on her independence, her individuality, the life she had made for herself. But it felt different with him. This morning she'd seen an entirely new side to him - one that she wasn't entirely sure how she would broach, when they sat down for dinner - but it had somehow made sense. Both of them had lives independent of each other. And that was ok. In fact, it was more than ok. Not something to be simply accepted, but embraced. He wouldn't want her to change, she was sure of that, just as she couldn't imagine asking him to be any less than himself. Looking after her didn't necessarily mean stifling her, they could look after each other.

The naan dough was proving next to the Aga, and the curry simmering gently with the lid on, so Laura peeled off her apron and flicked the kettle on. It was nearly three, and although she didn't want to ruin her appetite, the savoury perfume of the curry was starting to make her hungry. She turned the radio off, and padded through into the snug - as she rather romantically called her small back room - with tea and a packet of chocolate biscuits. It was dark at the back of the house, and the room had only one small, rather whimsical decorative stain-glass window. She curled up on the small sofa and wrapped a blanket over her knees. She loved this room, it was probably her favourite in the house, which was ridiculous because there was almost nothing in here. Although that was precisely its appeal. No landline, no tv, no computer (she was pathetically strict with herself about bringing the laptop in here), no music. Just perfect quiet and a large pile of reading. Some of it work, some of it more literary. An enormous heap of old BMJ issues teetered in the corner, the interesting articles long snipped out and filed for reference; and far too many National Geographics were lurking under the table. But she didn't really care about the ordered chaos, it was how she liked it. Robbie might very well organise his library by subject and author name - she'd almost giggled when she saw that - but there was no way he was making her tidy up her slightly eratic shelving. Besides, she knew where everything was, and that was all that mattered. She sipped her tea and carefully extracted another biscuit from the packet, promising herself that she'd only have one more. She was reading abstracts of other papers published on the same question, carefully highlighting the key references, marking up which data sets to look at more closely. She loved this stage of writing, the piecing together of the puzzle, the working out where her ideas might slot in. The actual drafting was hard work - she wasn't exactly excited by putting pen to paper - but the ideas bit, that was always fun. Add into the mix the very tangible fact that her contribution might one day translate into something of practical use to the living, and she was hooked. She wasn't really prone to over-thinking what others might consider her rather grim job, but she did like the idea that there was more of a point to her involvement than simply finding causes of death.

As she distractedly reached for another biscuit, her mobile rang from the kitchen. _Please don't be a call out, not today, not tonight._ She put the papers to once side, and strode purposefully out of the room. The name flashing up on the display was unexpected and made her smile,

"Hello you"

"Hey pet…how's your day going?"

"Fine…good…I was just doing some work actually"

"What are you like, woman…"

He laughed loudly, and immediately she felt a little defensive,

"It's interesting"

"I know, love, I'm only teasing. So…how's my dinner looking?"

She raised an eyebrow and wandered over to the stove,

"Mmm…it's looking substantial. I hope you're going to be hungry"

"I'm already starving…we didn't stop for lunch"

She tutted playfully, conveniently ignoring the fact that all she'd eaten since the previous day were four chocolate digestives,

"So how did it all go, have you charged him yet?"

"Aye, all done, just tying up the various bits before I go"

"Great…so what time should I expect you?"

He hesitated, and sighed,

"Well, that's the thing I was calling about…"

She paused, hand hovering over the lid of the pan,

"And I thought you were just being friendly…"

"Aw, I _am_ being friendly…but we have a small issue with this evening?"

"How small?"

"Miniscule…"

"Go on then…"

Deciding the pan was too hot to risk, she went in search of a dishcloth.

"Innocent has invited me, James and you out for a drink once I've finished this last report. She's just dropped by my office to remind me, and I don't think she's going to let it go"

"And she invited me as well?"

Laura was surprised. She knew Jean Innocent a little, but this was the first time - save that bizarre evening after her concert, when they'd ended up drinking far too much gin in a local bar - that Laura had ever been invited out.

"Yep…she made quite a point of it…but listen, if you don't want to, don't worry, I can just say hi, neck me pint and make a swift exit"

She hesitated a moment, remembering with not insubstantial discomfort, quite how tipsy she and Jean had got that strange evening, and wondered not for the first time in the past few years what she might have let slip,

"No…no, it's ok. I'll come…"

"You sure?"

"Yeah…why not…but do you think we should, you know, say something?"

"What, like an announcement or something?"

He sounded faintly horrified, and she chuckled, switching the phone to her other hand as she carefully lifted the lid on the casserole,

"As amusing as that would be..."

Her voice was measured, still carefully considering the various pros and cons of the situation.

"It's alright, pet, I understand"

She paused, stirring slowly, trying to read his tone but failing,

"We should probably talk about it, Robbie…I just don't want to make anything difficult"

"I agree…it's ok. We've got nothing to hide, pet, but you're right, let's do this properly"

She smiled, wondering what 'doing it properly' actually meant for Robbie Lewis. She shook her head slightly, as if trying to shake her thoughts from the daydream, and set the spoon down on the side of the pot,

"So what time?"

"Jean's got a meeting until six, but I'll probably be finished sooner…"

"Are you meeting her there?"

"Yeah…I'll head down when I can. Hathaway's flight doesn't get in until 4ish, so we might miss him anyway…why?"

"Meet me at 5.30? That way I'll at least have a few minutes with you entirely to myself?"

She heard him chuckle, and the muffled sound as he transferred the phone to his other ear before he replied, his voice now low and slightly teasing,

"Honestly Laura, you'll have me all evening…_and_ all night, if you want"

She smiled, biting her lip unconsciously,

"I'm counting on it…but still…"

"Hmm…I know. OK, 5.30?"

"Yes…which pub?"

"The White Horse"

"I'll be there…don't be late"

* * *

A/N Thank you for all your lovely reviews for the last chapter! Especially some of the people who haven't left them before - it's brilliant to hear what you all think :)

PS. We're nearly there with this story - thanks for sticking with it :)


	27. Chapter 27

The sun was warm against her back as Laura walked along the riverbank. In the end, she'd opted not to drive - it seemed ridiculous on such a nice day - and she was enjoying the opportunity to stroll. A few brave souls were out punting, clearly determined to make the most of the last few days of autumn before it turned cold. She smiled to herself, wondering idly whether Robbie had ever ventured out in a punt._ Now that would be a sight to amuse…_ She grinned as one of the lads in control of the pole wobbled a little. Getting out the house was doing her good. There was only ever one remedy to Laura's stress, and she knew full well that forward motion was the key. Not that she wasn't thinking about Robbie, about their upcoming evening… But first there was the slightly concerning trial by ordeal of sitting next to him in the pub - because she always sat next to him - without giving themselves away to Jean and, in all probability, James. The thought was making her slightly uneasy. Not least because the last time she was in a pub with Jean, she had a horrible suspicion that she might have said rather too much about her feelings towards a certain DI. She bit her lip unconsciously, not for the first time racking her brains, trying to remember their conversation. It was no use, they'd had far too much gin for her to remember clearly, however hard she tried. She could only hope that Jean had a similarly addled memory of the evening. There was something though, something that she'd let slip…she was almost certain of it. She sighed, resigning herself to the situation, then smiled mischievously as her mind turned to the far more exciting question of whether she'd manage to sit close enough to tease Robbie under the table.

* * *

At just after quarter past five, Jean Innocent swept into Robbie's office, swearing like a trooper. He was in the process of slipping on his jacket and powering down his computer, and he sighed, assuming it meant more work,

"Everything ok, ma'am?"

"That bloody idiot from the press board has cancelled on me for the second time in a week…he is absolutely impossible!"

Robbie smiled, pleased that she'd not found a problem in his reports, but quickly tried to look sympathetic,

"Typical…"

She perched on the edge of Hathaway's desk for a second, and checked her wristwatch,

"Oh sod it…pub?"

* * *

As they arrived at the White Horse, Robbie headed off to the bar to get a couple of drinks in, fingering his mobile nervously while he waited for them to be poured. He'd tried Laura's phone, but she wasn't answering. Not that he was really concerned, she'd probably just left it at home…but still, he didn't want her to be too disappointed that they wouldn't have any time together until later. He paid, and gingerly carried the glasses back to the table, casting a quick glance towards the door. But instead of Laura's petite figure, he saw James, carefully dipping his head to avoid the low beams,

"Oh, here he is, the boy wonder…"

Jean looked him over, obviously confused,

"I thought you had another three days James?"

Robbie grinned, amused that she had clearly ignored the details on the holiday form that he'd put in front of her that morning,

"I knew he'd be bored out of his scull…"

James raised his eyebrows, and smiled ruefully,

"Not far wrong sir"

"Here..I'll get you a drink"

In spite of Hathaway's protestations, Robbie turned back in the direction of the bar, immediately seeing Laura walk through the door. In the background, he could hear Jean making small talk,

"Well, I've enjoyed being the Inspector's sidekick…it's been alright, hasn't it?"

Laura had spotted him straight away, and from the smile on her face he knew exactly what she was about to do…he started to step towards her, wondering if he might beat her to the doorway and safely out of sight. But it was too late. He couldn't help but smile back as she came closer, and without a second glance to the table, he stepped towards her as her arms slid up around his neck possessively, pulling herself up to kiss him. For a moment he was slightly unbalanced by her, the urgency of her kiss surprising him, but as her tongue slid seductively over his lower lip, he kissed her back. She pulled back slightly, her voice husky,

"I've been wanting to do that all day"

Her breath was warm against his lips, and he almost forgot that they had an audience. Almost. But in a split second he made his decision. For far too long he'd stepped back from her, metaphorically or otherwise, and left her to wonder at his feelings. For once it was time to sod the consequences,

"Same 'ere"

He kissed her again, matching her enthusiasm, his hand slipping protectively around her waist, pulling her gently against him. As he pulled back, exhilarated by what he'd just done, he held her gaze just for a moment, before nodding to the table. As she turned, Laura felt the heat rising on her cheeks, and Robbie's hand gently sweeping across her back, his thumb stroking her, reassuring her,

"James…gosh you're sunburnt"

She wasn't sure if it was lack of oxygen or the sinking feeling of embarrassment, but Laura suddenly felt very giddy. James was staring at her calmly,

"Thank you"

Robbie's hand was still on her back, and she felt herself leaning into it, trying to steady herself. He turned slightly, his voice calm and surprisingly confident,

"I'll get the drinks in.."

"…No I'll"

They smiled at each other, her hand coming to rest lightly on his chest,

"No, we'll both get them…you can have that one" He nodded at James, and without so much as a raised eyebrow turned back to Laura and steered her towards the bar. She walked in front of him, and immediately he reached forward and caught her hand in his, his fingers wrapping around hers. Pulling himself almost alongside her, he pressed a quick kiss to her temple and asked,

"OK?"

She nodded, squeezing his fingers lightly,

"Um…I'm just going to head to the ladies…won't be a minute"

Before he could reply, she'd stepped away, moving quickly to the small door on the opposite side of the room.

* * *

To Laura's relief, the bathroom was empty, and she stood at the washbasin, leaning on her hands. Quickly glancing in the mirror she was relieved to see that her face wasn't quite as red as it felt. She swallowed quickly, and took a deep breath._ It's ok, you're overreacting._ She turned the cold tap, and squeezing a little soap out of the dispenser, began to wash her hands. They weren't dirty, but the ritual calmed her, gave her a moment. As she dried them carefully with the paper towel, her breathing began to settle. She looked at herself in the mirror again, checking her makeup, refusing to allow herself to worry about what had just happened. _He loves you_. She smiled, the nervous energy starting to dissipate and a calmer warmth spreading across her chest. She took a final glance and headed back in the direction of the bar.

* * *

Out of the corner of his eye, Robbie saw the door to the ladies swing open, and he sighed with relief. She looked fine. A bit dazed, maybe, but that was understandable. He turned to address the barman who was taking their order, and felt her arm sweep across his back, her small body tucking itself in next to him. He took her hand and gave her a knowing look,

"OK?"

She grinned,

"You already asked me that"

He smiled back, his thumb caressing the back of her hand,

"I'm just making sure"

She nodded, before looking at him more seriously,

"I don't suppose we could just do a runner now?"

He shook his head, and kissed her temple again,

"I don't suppose so…"

They shared a mischievous grin and he felt her snuggle in closer. He lifted his arm to rest across her shoulders, before leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek,

"I don't think they will be raising any objections"

She looked at him, intrigued by his confidence, raising an eyebrow to encourage him to continue,

"Well Jim's been on at me for years to ask you on a date…and last week the Chief Super told me in no uncertain terms to 'get it sorted'"

For a moment, Laura looked slightly horrified that her private life had been such a matter for discussion, but the warm smile spreading across his face and the heavy arm across her shoulders soothed her irritation somewhat,

"I had no idea that…"

He grinned, kissing her hair quickly again, before reaching out for the now-served drinks,

"…that they cared. I know…"

She grinned back, and took her glass, before giving him a sidewards glance,

"So, once more unto the breach?"

"Henry V? Act 3…scene 1?"

She shook her head with amusement, remembering the piles of books from her morning's exploration,

"Show off…"


	28. Chapter 28

A/N Sincere apologies for the hiatus - I've been really sick and not up to anything much! I'm still not entirely better, but really want to get this finished. One benefit of being in bed for days is I've had some new ideas…and I have a new story (a big one!) that I want to start drafting!

* * *

Half an hour later they were all sat around a table, catching up on the events of the case. Robbie had squeezed in next to James, and Laura had rather reluctantly found herself next to Jean. James was visibly exhausted from his trip, and was struggling to feign interest in the various ins and outs of the Faulkner evidence. Robbie was insisting on a blow-by-blow account, partly to make conversation, partly to fill the lad in, but all James could muster was the occasional nod between sips. Eventually, Jean registered his boredom and abruptly changed the subject:

"So what was the mission like? Corrupt any nuns?"

James smiled ruefully, and raised an eyebrow,

"Do you really want to know?"

She attempted a glare, but ended up smiling sympathetically,

"That bad?"

Robbie drained his pint and set it purposefully back on the table,

"Sorry for dragging you back, though, lad.."

James gave him a lop-sided smirk, and took another sip from his glass,

"You didn't really…I've got a gig tomorrow night, would've been a rush otherwise…"

Jean rolled her eyes, and setting her glass delicately down on the polished oak, looked deliberately at James,

"Right, well this lovely sergeant owes me at least one drink…I'm sure he can stretch to another round"

James glared at her knowingly, trying not to smile at their shared joke. Oblivious to their scheming, though, Laura looked up quickly, catching Robbie's eye across the table. Under the table, he carefully pressed his leg against hers in acknowledgment,

"Nah, I'm sorry ma'am, but this lovely lady here is cooking me dinner, and I'm bloody starving"

Jean raised an eyebrow and sighed theatrically,

"Well, you're no fun! But fine…I'll let you off for good behaviour. I'm sure James will keep an old lady company"

James smiled slightly, trying not to process the fact that he would be drinking alone with his boss, again, and began to collect up the glasses,

"Same again, ma'am?"

She nodded, and Robbie rose to let him out of the booth.

"I'm just going to, um…" he gestured towards the gentlemans' and headed off.

An awkward silence hung between the two women, and Laura smiled nervously as she slipped her jacket back on and adjusted her scarf. Jean watched her carefully, intrigued by this new, slightly flustered Laura. She'd always rather liked the pathologist, had admired her steel and slightly warped sense of humour. Jean wasn't one to be distracted by silly female jealousies…no, she was extremely pleased to have a number of top-level female professionals in her team. Kept the boys in check. But this evening Laura had been very quiet…even for Laura. She reached out and touched her wrist, causing her to turn quickly,

"Look, I know you don't want a fuss, but I'm really pleased for you both"

Again, that slightly nervous smile. Laura clearly didn't like to discuss her personal life…_at least not when she is sober_, Jean added mentally.

"Thanks"

Jean smiled back, and patted her arm,

"I mean it…he's wanted this for a very long time"

For a long moment, Laura just stared at her hands. She was playing with the tassel on her keyring, neatening the threads with her fingers. Eventually she looked up and met Jean's eye,

"You knew, didn't you?"

Jean nodded, and then sat back heavily with a sigh,

"Yes…and no"

Laura raised an eyebrow, and she continued,

"Yes I knew what he was going through, but no I wasn't sure he'd ever tell you…" she hesitated, suddenly realising the hole she'd just dug for herself, "…indeed, I'm not actually sure what he has told you…shit, sorry, none of my business"

Jean emptied her glass, not sure what to say, aware she'd already said far too much. But Laura smiled, more warmly this time, and set her keys back down on the table,

"I think I've got the full picture now, don't worry. But I wish you'd told me sooner…"

Jean smiled and nodded thoughtfully,

"It wasn't for me to…"

Laura nodded slightly, interrupting her,

"…I know"

At that moment Robbie ducked his head under the low beam and lingered at the end of the table,

"Ready pet?"

He'd noticed Jean's hand on Laura's wrist immediately, and couldn't help but wonder what he might have interrupted. Laura turned and smiled broadly, picking up her keys and her wallet,

"Yep, come on then"

They exchanged their goodbyes quickly, and Jean couldn't help but notice the way his hand hovered at the small of Laura's back as he guided her out of the alcove. She smiled to herself, and shook her head a little. _What a pair._ Him paralyzed by fear and guilt, her only able to talk after she'd inhaled half a bottle of gin._ Oh well, they seemed to be on the right track now._ And in a way she was pleased that Laura didn't remember what she'd spilled that night several years ago. It hadn't exactly been pretty. She should have known better than to be subtle with a half-cut pathologist, should have just told her in no uncertain terms what to do about her not-exactly-unrequited-love._ But never mind, all sorted now._ And sometimes the scenic route had its benefits. She was just pondering the spoils of her labours as James ducked under the perilously low beam, cradling a bottle and two glasses,

"That's my boy…"

The 'boy' smirked, folding himself into the small booth, and setting the packet of cigarettes and his wallet carefully between them,

"Am I going to have trouble with you again this evening, ma'am?"

She raised an eyebrow and tapped her fingers on the table impatiently,

"Promises, promises…"


	29. Chapter 29

As they stepped out from the gloomy pub into the pale afternoon sunshine, Laura's eyes were momentarily dazzled. He was looking back at her, waiting for her to catch up, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. They crossed Broad Street and as they walked through the wrought iron gates of the Sheldonian, she felt him fling his arm casually around her shoulders,

"Are you really ok? Jean wasn't giving you a hard time?"

She smirked, wrapping her arm around his waist,

"No…quite the opposite actually"

He didn't probe further, apparently content with her answer,

"Good"

They walked around the smooth curve of the Sheldonian, past the Bodleian and out onto Catte Street, getting caught up in the flood of students finishing their lectures and heading back to their Colleges. They both knew Oxford well, and took advantage of the shortcut through the back of Exeter college to wind their way towards the station. Robbie's arm soon tired, and he clasped her hand in his, his fingers wrapping around hers,

"Robbie, are you really starving, 'cause I'll still need to make some of the dinner when we get back…"

She sounded concerned, and as they waited at the traffic lights, he pressed a quick kiss to her temple,

"No, I'm fine. Just wanted to get away while we had the chance"

She smiled knowingly, and squeezed his hand. They'd been walking for five minutes in silence, both of them knowing where they were going, quietly confident in each other's company. The lights changed and they joined the crowd of students crossing the road, before peeling off down a side street to the station. Curling their hands up, Robbie checked his watch. Nearly seven. The station car park was never really empty, and for a moment he wondered if Laura might want him to…

"Don't you dare"

He smiled sheepishly, struck not for the first time how well she could read him, and squeezed her hand. A whisper of a smile curled her lips, and she nodded towards the car,

"Any chance of a lift?"

He pretended to contemplate it,

"I think we could manage it. But I've got to feed his Lordship before I come over. Do you want to come with me, or would you prefer if I drop you off on the way?"

He fished in his pocket for the keys, and disabled the alarm.

"You can drop me off…that way I can get the dinner ready for when you arrive"

He grinned, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, and nodded,

"Excellent choice"

* * *

Ten minutes later, Robbie pulled up at the kerb outside Laura's house. She'd been quiet most of the short drive home, looking out of the window, obviously preoccupied with her thoughts. A couple of times Robbie had glanced over, wondering if something was up, but she'd just relaxed back into the seat and looked at him pensively, a smile playing across her lips. As they came to a stop, he didn't turn the engine off, and she rummaged in her jacket for the house keys. Eventually she found them and turned to open the car door,

"Right, I'll see you in a bit then?"

Robbie smiled to himself and placed his palm deliberately on her thigh, just above her knee. Surprised, Laura turned back to face him, still unaccustomed to such gestures. His face was almost expressionless, impossible to read, and he solemnly pointed to his cheek.

"No free rides in this taxi"

She grinned and shaking her head at his idiocy and kissed him on the point indicated. He smiled broadly, raising an eyebrow knowingly and stealing another quick kiss from her retreating lips,

"Better. Now you may go… I won't be too long"

* * *

At a quarter to eight, the doorbell rang and Laura carefully put down the large knife she was wielding. Dinner was almost ready and she had even had five minutes to refresh her makeup. _Perfect_. It was uncanny, they'd been here before, a number of times even, but tonight things felt different. She felt different. Their awkward dinners of the past, with the stilted conversations and pointed silences could be forgotten. She felt relaxed - a fact not entirely unaided by the gin and tonic in the pub - and contented. She wouldn't need to spend the whole evening persuading herself that he probably wasn't interested, that he was just lonely and humouring her. As she reached the door, she took a peek through the spy hole and smiled at the figure illuminated by the porch light. He was dressed casually in jeans and a jumper, smiling to himself, bottle of wine in one hand _and something that looked rather like…?_

She swung the door open,

"Robert Lewis, are those carrots?"

He grinned, cradling the fluffy green bundle in one arm and handed her the bottle of wine,

"Sorry pet, I don't really do flowers in my garden"

She pushed the door to behind him and took the proffered wine, before inspecting the produce,

"They've very impressive, but I'm afraid I've already added the carrots…you'll have to make do with Waitrose's finest tonight"

He attempted to look disapproving, failed, and simply shrugged,

"Well, we'll have to have them tomorrow night then…"

She raised an eyebrow, daring him to presume more,

"You're very sure of yourself tonight, mister…"

She turned towards the kitchen and he slipped off his shoes and followed, placing the carrots on the nearest counter top. Laura opened a cupboard and extracted a couple of glasses, setting them next to the bottle. She looked at him, leaning lazily against the fridge, a mischievous look in his eye, and took in his attire. Casual suited him far better than a crumpled suit, and it pleased her that she might see him dressed like this more often. She glanced sideways at the carrots on the counter and smirked, shaking her head a little in disbelief,

"You brought me carrots?"

He looked sheepish and she stepped closer, her palm coming to rest on his chest, the soft wool of his jumper at once unfamiliar yet comforting. His arm slid around her back, and she looked up at him, amused to see the beginnings of a sulk,

"I happen to like carrots, Laura…"

She held his gaze deliberately, and pressed a kiss to his slightly pouting lips,

"I know…me too"

He pulled her closer and kissed her back, his arm lifting her slightly to meet him. She wrapped her other arm around his neck and was just deepening the kiss when he pulled back, sniffed the air theatrically, and beamed,

"I smell curry…"

She grinned, kissing his chin playfully,

"Too predictable?"

He wrapped his arms even more tightly around her, pulling her into what could only be described as a bear hug, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of her head,

"Did I mention that I love you?"

"I do have some feint recollection of it…"

The timer pinged, interrupting their moment, and Laura smiled apologetically. Returning to the various pots on the stove, she lifted one of the lids experimentally.

"Can I do anything to help?"

She shook her head quickly,

"Nope…everything under control."

And then wondered if she'd been a little too sharp, adding "I hope you're hungry, I've made rather a lot…"

Robbie stepped up behind her, surveying the bubbling curry, slipping a large hand around her waist,

"You know me, I'm always hungry"

He kissed her neck, as if to illustrate the point, and she added the rice to the water,

"Well, make yourself at home, this'll be about fifteen minutes…you know where the tv is"

He smiled against her neck, his breath making her shiver slightly,

"Are you kicking me out of your kitchen?"

_Busted_. She turned and kissed his cheek, extricating herself from his arms,

"Not particularly… but I do need to go outside, find some herbs and cut some kale"

She brandished a knife not entirely convincingly, and he smirked as she stepped out into the garden. It was already dark outside, but she didn't seem too perturbed. It was good to see her relaxed like this, letting him in. He didn't underestimate how strange this must be for her, having him around all the time. It was strange for him too, but this wasn't his home. He'd stepped into her space, and although he couldn't wait to share his with her, this was a real home, not some empty bachelor flat. Robbie opened a drawer experimentally and after a couple of tries located a serviceable corkscrew. He eased the bottle he'd brought with him open, and poured a couple of glasses. Picking up his, he wandered towards the living room.

Taking a deep sip, Robbie savoured the wine. It wasn't his usual tipple, but when he did partake, he knew what he liked. Mainly Hathaway's fault that. Morse would never have believed it possible that Robbie Lewis would actually drink wine voluntarily, and with accompanying food. He sat down on the small sofa by the window and placed his glass on the table. Gradually, he was relaxing, the challenges of the last week beginning to fade. It had been a complex case, there was no denying it, but he was pleased with how it had gone. And he was pleased with himself. Laura had been quite the distraction, and yet this time it had all ended so differently. He knew it was stupid to even draw comparisons to the monumental cock-up with the twins, but he couldn't help it. He had been right though, that mess had been a one-off. Laura wasn't the problem, and neither was he, not really, not any more.

He glanced at the pile of notes perched precariously on top of some magazines. He had absolutely no idea what glomerulonephritis was, nor what the various tables of data might mean, but he couldn't help but smile at her handwriting. It was small and precise, much like the woman herself, and surprisingly readable for a scientist. He'd never once asked about her research work, not really, fearing it would be far too complicated for the likes of him to understand. He scanned the notes, seeing a few familiar terms. It seemed to be something about kidneys, and the role of certain enzymes. He took another sip of his wine, and read on, wondering if the numbers proved or disproved her hypothesis. The opening section - the bit written in ink - was very formal, and clearly finished; but he was intrigued by the comments peppering the margins of the photocopied articles. Laura was clearly quite an animated reviewer and her acerbic comments made him smile. He was just leafing through a very densely and colourfully annotated paper on something called ACE inhibitors when a subtle cough from the doorway broke his attention. He smiled guiltily and make a conspicuous effort to tidy the papers.

"Dinner's ready…"

* * *

A/N Sorry for the slowness in writing this...I'm still not really recovered and my brain is struggling to keep up with the (paid) writing I'm supposed to be doing! But still, I hope this is ok. Apologies also for the eagle-eyed amongst you: in the episode, they really screwed up the continuity - it's meant to be Halloween (remember the costume bit at the beginning) and yet, for some unfathomably reason it's sunny when Laura and Robbie leave the pub after work... Unless everyone was in there drinking at 11am, it just doesn't work. So I hope you don't mind me 'fixing' it. I assume they filmed in springtime...


	30. Chapter 30

They were sat at her kitchen table, the lights low and a small group of candles between them. Robbie was helping himself to another spoonful of beef curry,

"You know, Laura, this is absolutely smashing…best curry I've had in ages, probably ever"

She grinned, pleased that her efforts had been appreciated, and quietly impressed that he was enjoying the very spicy dish. It wasn't that she'd been nervous, not really, just keen to make him happy.

"Thanks, it's my Dad's recipe…he's even more of a curry addict than you are"

Robbie helped himself to another generous spoonful and ripped off a large piece of garlic naan bread,

"And this, this is amazing…where did you get it?"

She smiled as he licked his fingers clean, raising an eyebrow slightly, and wondered idly if he ever cooked anything from scratch,

"I made it…"

He took another bite and beamed at her,

"Blimey woman, you're a bloody genius."

She shook her head, chuckling warmly and carefully forked another mouthful of rice to her lips,

"I'll remind you of that next I can't find my car keys and have to resort to walking to work"

He swallowed and looked at her confused,

"Seriously?"

She nodded sheepishly and nibbled her lower lip.

"Happens often?"

Again, she looked embarrassed and returned her attention to her food, before quietly admitting,

"At least once a month"

He laughed in spite of himself and quickly faked a cough to stifle it. She held his gaze knowingly and he reached over to pat her hand,

"Don't worry pet, I'll give you a lift next time"

* * *

"So is the case all wrapped up?"

He looked up from his third helping of beef and sat back in his chair,

"Yep, at least until it goes to trial, will be a couple of months, at least"

She nodded, nibbling at one of the last pieces of naan,

"Good. I'll finish my write up tomorrow afternoon and get it off to the CPS."

"No particular rush, love…"

She warmed at the endearment, and nodded resignedly,

"Yes, there is, I've got a pile of reports to finish already, and teaching reviews are due next week. Not to mention the article that you were perusing earlier…"

She smirked at her own words and sighed dramatically,

"What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment"

He grinned back, helping himself to another serving of vegetables,

"…whereas I'm just a glutton"

She chuckled throatily, and topped up his wine glass.

* * *

"Seriously though, your research looked interesting…"

She contemplated him, running her index finger around the edge of her wine glass, her head tilting slightly,

"Yes, it is sometimes. Sometimes it's more trouble than it's worth…but I like to think that it'll make a difference"

He carefully placed his knife and fork on the now-empty plate and brought his elbows to rest on the table. Resting his chin on his hand, he leaned forward,

"Does it have a medical application, what you're doing?"

She took a sip of her deliberately small glass of wine and nodded,

"Hopefully. It's all about kidney function. I'm using the results of a few post-mortems to demonstrate how certain compounds deteriorate. Hopefully someone might then use some of my conclusions to improve what we know about treating certain conditions…"

She trailed off, concerned, as always, that she might be boring him. She was well-used to people's eyes starting to glaze over when she talked about her work, but this time she was pleasantly surprised. He looked genuinely interested, and so she continued,

"Kidney failure is pretty difficult to treat - they don't regenerate in the way that the liver can - and at the moment most people end up on dialysis which is both expensive and very time-consuming"

Robbie nodded thoughtfully and took a sip from his glass,

"It puts it all in a new light, doesn't it?"

She looked puzzled, wondering where he was going,

"How so?"

"All the death and, you know, the…chopping up"

He was so uncomfortable with the practical side of her job, and she bit her lip to stop herself smiling. As her father had so often reminded her, not everyone shared her ability to compartmentalize, to detach, and so she tried to be sensitive,

"Mmm…I suppose it does"

He smiled gently, his mind still contemplating her work, wondering for the hundredth time how such a delicate, sophisticated woman could spend a large amount of her time hacking up dead bodies. It just didn't fit. But just as he thought it, he checked himself. _Stop being such a misogynist dinosaur, Lewis. Just because she's beautiful, doesn't mean she isn't damn good at her job._ She raised an eyebrow, obviously picking up on some of his turmoil, and he tried to explain,

"I still find it strange that you can cut people up"

She almost laughed, but realised that he was being serious,

"It _is_ my job, Robbie…"

He sat back in his seat, sighed slightly,

"I know, pet, it's just…" he paused, not sure how to phrase it, "I don't know how you do it"

She smiled patiently, wondering quite how honest she should be, biting her lip slightly. He reached across the table and took her hand,

"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to make you feel awkward, I didn't mean anything by it…"

She squeezed his hand and decided that, as in all things, honest was probably best,

"You didn't. And if it's any consolation, sometimes I don't quite know how I do it myself"

He didn't notice the flicker of emotion cross her face, he was too concerned that he might have put her on the spot. He stroked his fingers across the back of her hand,

"So how did you get into medicine?"

She allowed him to play with the ring on her finger, smiling at his tenderness,

"Easy really…good at science at school, A-levels, then Oxford…to be honest I didn't put an awful lot of thought into it"

"Really?"

He looked surprised, and she shrugged,

"I suppose a few teachers made suggestions along the way, but it was all just a bit of a logical sequence"

"It must have been bloody hard work, though"

She met his eyes, and realised that of all her friends, no one had ever asked her such simple questions, such fundamental things about her life. She slipped her hand under his palm and linked their fingers,

"It was… That said, it is always interesting"

He smiled, and for a moment she was slightly unnerved by how closely he was listening to her,

"How about you?"

At first he looked confused, tapping his thumb nervously on the table, then simply resigned,

"I hated school"

"Really?"

"Yeah, wasn't much call for books and studying round my way"

She was shocked, but didn't want to show it, he looked embarrassed enough,

"I can't imagine not liking school"

"Yeah well…I didn't stay long"

He grinned cheekily, hoping it would lighten the mood, and she smiled back indulgently,

"Well, you certainly seem to have done ok in spite of it"

He squeezed her hand gently, their eyes meeting,

"Aye, can't say I'm complaining…"

* * *

"Was Monty alright earlier?"

She was starting to clear the table, piling their plates carefully.

"Aye, he was fine, just curled up on my bed looking pleased with himself"

She collected the casserole dish, pleased that they'd finished the lot,

"Really? That's exactly where I left him earlier!"

He sighed audibly, taking another sip of his wine,

"Sounds about right…"

_She'd been in his bedroom._ The thought excited him probably more than it should and he shifted slightly in his seat.

"And what were you doing in my bedroom, young lady…"

She turned away from the counter quickly and looked at him guiltily, answering a little too quickly,

"Nothing. I'm sorry…"

He held up his hands in appeasement, not a little amused at her reaction,

"Hey, it's ok…I'm only joking"

She smiled nervously, embarrassed by her overreaction, and turned back to the sink to fill the bowl with some water, for the pans to soak. _For god's sake, Laura, just leave it._ Her mind was suddenly racing ahead, though, in spite of her attempts to keep it in check, and the words were out of her mouth before she knew it,

"How is this going to work, Robbie?"

For a moment he wondered if she meant the washing up, but he quickly realised that she was thinking about something else. He stood up, and gathering the last of the cutlery walked over to stand behind her. He slipped the knives and forks into the soapy water of the bowl and wrapped his arm around her waist, steadying her against him,

"How is _what_ going to work, Laura?"

There was something about his proximity that made this harder to say, and she moved away, reaching out to collect the pan still sitting on the hob. He released his grip slightly, feeling her muscles tense against him,

"This…us…my house, your house..."

Her voice was too casual, too off-hand, and all of a sudden she sounded exhausted. He wasn't entirely clear how she had suddenly become so wound up, but he kept his cool. He was beginning to understand the pattern of her emotions, her thoughts. She would fret, wind herself up, possibly for hours, days, and then it would just come out, apparently from nowhere. It was never as bad as she thought, but her mind seemed to race ahead. _Must be the curse of being so damn intelligent._ He massaged his forehead, and took a breath, giving her a moment. She plunged the large pan into the warm water and sighed loudly,

"It's all just so impossible"

She felt him step closer again, the palm of his right hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder,

"It doesn't _feel_ impossible, Laura"

He kissed the back of her head, smiling as she didn't fight him, as she relaxed slightly,

"I would move in with you in a heartbeat, you know, but this is your home and I wouldn't want to force myself on you"

She smiled wryly, wondering if she could manage a joke at his expense at his turn of phrase, but decided against it. Instead she closed her eyes and leant back against his firm chest. His hands slid up and down her arms, soothing her,

"What would you like, Laura?"

She hesitated, her mind not fully grasping his meaning,

"I'm not sure what you're asking"

He smiled tightly, his hands stilling their movement, his chin coming to rest against her hair,

"I'm asking what you would like, what you want from me"

He swallowed, aware of the magnitude of his question, but determined not to push her too hard. She was quiet for a long moment, considering his words, weighing their meaning. No one had ever asked her what she wanted. _She wasn't even sure if she'd ever really asked herself. Not really._ There was something rather pathetic to have reached the grand old age of 52 and to have no idea what she truly wanted in her life. Her life was full, of course it was, but she had never looked at it critically. It was both terrifying and exhilarating to consider it, face on. She shivered slightly, the warm water on her hands making her feel chilled, and she took an uneven breath. The answer was glaringly obvious, now that she gave it conscious attention,

"This. I just want this"

He wrapped his arm around her stomach again, his thumb caressing her hip gently, and she felt a kiss pressed to her temple. To her horror she shivered again, and a sob rose. Tears pricked her eyes, and she fought hard to control her breathing. He registered the change immediately and instinctively held her closer.

"Oh god, I'm sorry…"

Again, a kiss against her temple,

"It's ok, love…"

Gingerly, he reached over for a tea-towel from the nearby rail and extracted her hands from the soapy water, drying them carefully.

"I'm never normally like this, I promise. I just…"

As he turned her to face him, she wiped the tears from her eyes, mortified by her lack of composure.

"It's ok…you're not doing anything wrong…"

He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, his hands cupping her head,

"I'm being pathetic"

He smiled, kissing her lightly on the lips, his eyes daring her to challenge him,

"No you're not. And I told you before, I'm not going anywhere. Come 'ere you"

With a final sniffle, he wrapped her tightly against his chest, her face coming to nuzzle against his jumper. Gradually her breathing settled, and he kissed her forehead deliberately,

"OK?"

"Mmmm"

"Good. Now, did you say something earlier about ice cream?"

A/N - Please let me know what you think ;) PS. I have good news and bad news. I accidentally planned out another story this afternoon...and I already have enough plot for 25 chapters. Hmmm. Same characters, much more angsty / dramatic...dare I say realistic? ;)


	31. Chapter 31

Note: There's one f-bomb towards the end of the chapter, but it's entirely warranted. I would put money on you thinking the same...

* * *

There was, indeed, ice cream and ten minutes later they were curled up on the sofa, finishing a bowl each while watching the evening news. As he set his bowl down on the floor, Robbie theatrically lifted his arm and looked in her direction, his request clear. She smiled indulgently and slid over towards him, her body coming to rest against his chest. His arm was heavy around her shoulders, and she immediately snuggled down against him, her face pressing into his jumper. Yawning loudly he carefully put his feet up on the coffee table,

"I hope you aren't going to fall asleep on me, Robbie Lewis"

He chuckled softly, shifting slightly in the cushions, trying to get comfy,

"Would serve you right to have to carry me upstairs…"

She patted his stomach gently,

"Not after the dinner you've just had"

He grinned and sighed contentedly, his hand coming to rest over hers.

* * *

"So, what are your plans for this week?"

He was playing with her hair, teasing the soft strands through his fingers, only half listening to her,

"Nothing much, really…I'm off work until Friday now"

"It's alright for some!"

"Well not all of us got to go gallivanting to Suffolk at the weekend…"

"I did not gallivant…"

She looked genuinely irritated and he pressed an kiss to her forehead, trying not to laugh at how easy it was to rile her.

"So, in short, I am at your disposal, m'lady"

She raised an eyebrow and held his gaze for a moment longer than truly necessary, before replying as smoothly as possible,

"Wonderful, well…I have a pile of shirts that need ironing, the garden needs digging and I really had rather planned to get the back windows washed…"

Ignoring her sly grin, he kissed her again, before calmly adding a resigned,

"Yes, dear"

* * *

"But seriously, pet, I do have some time on my hands. Are you working all week?"

She was still snuggled against his chest, savouring the relaxation,

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I'm on call until tomorrow lunchtime, then normal 9-5 until Thursday. I think I'm on call overnight Thursday, but unless anything big happens, I should be able to take Friday off…"

Her voice trailed off, as she calculated her hours again,

"Yep, Friday should be fine, and then I'm off until Monday afternoon"

He rumbled his approval, and shifted slightly on the sofa,

"So would you like to come over for dinner on Thursday night?"

She hesitated, not because she didn't want to accept, rather that she wondered what would happen on the days in between. As they lay here, cuddled up in front of the fire, she simply couldn't imagine not spending her evenings with him.

"Laura?"

He sounded concerned, and she nodded quickly, turning to look at him, her eyes lighting up with a smile,

"Of course, that would be lovely"

"I _can_ cook, you know…sort of"

She grinned, reaching up to press a soft kiss to his now-stubbly chin,

"Do I dare ask what, 'sort of' means?"

A small chuckle rumbled beneath her, and she raised an eyebrow,

"Oh ye of little faith…"

She kissed him teasingly on the lips, and settled back against him,

"You're going to ask James, aren't you?"

He chuckled again, squeezing her tight against him in a playful bear hug,

"Maybe… How did you know?"

She grinned into his jumper, wondering how much to tell him, not wanting to rake over old memories,

"He came and cooked for me a few times after I was attacked…he's amazing in the kitchen"

Robbie sighed, but didn't release her from his firm grip, his hand running once again through her hair.

"Aye, he's a good lad. Too smart for his own good, but he's a big softie really"

His voice was a little melancholy and she took the opportunity to change the subject,

"I think Jean Innocent fancies him…"

He guffawed loudly, choking slightly on the sip of wine he'd just taken, and looked at her in disbelief,

"You're kidding?"

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, but she shook her head sagely,

"Nope, I think it's pretty blatant…did you see the way she was looking at him earlier"

He looked genuinely puzzled, and shook his head,

"No…though I might have been distracted by the young lady sitting opposite me"

She shoved him playfully,

"Aw, you're rubbish… I'd put money on it"

He shook his head again, unsure of what to make of the turn of conversation,

"You're being serious, aren't you?"

She smiled knowingly, lifting her eyebrows in confirmation and kissed him on the cheek,

"It's not impossible, you know"

The weather report came on, and he sank into a thoughtful silence. _Hathaway and Innocent, surely not?_ He shuddered slightly, shaking the idea from his brain. _Laura must be winding him up._ As the adverts started, she offered to make him a cup of tea which he accepted gratefully. She pottered off into the kitchen, and he took the opportunity to swing his legs up onto the sofa and stretch out his back. Last night's exertions, although extremely pleasant, had reawakened some muscles he seldom made use of, and a day sitting around in chairs and sofas was beginning to take its toll. He smiled to himself smugly, _there's life in the old dog yet, though._ And a few strained muscles along the way was a worthy price to pay. She padded back into the room with a mug in each hand, and a bar of expensive-looking dark chocolate between her lips. As she reached down to set his mug on a coaster, he retrieved the packet and inspected it,

"Got any Dairy Milk?"

She feigned disgust and unceremoniously lifted and slid herself under his stretched out legs. Not for the first time, he was surprised at her strength, and his expression revealed as much. She rolled her eyes and retrieved her chocolate,

"Nothing like heaving bodies all day to work a girl's biceps…"

He shook his head, smiling at how easily she read his thoughts. She had closed her eyes now, and was relaxing back against the embroidered fabric of the sofa and he took the opportunity to watch her unobserved. She really was quite exceptional. Intelligent, calm and methodical in her professional life…she never hurried at a crime scene, always taking her time to think through her actions. It had sometimes driven him mad over the years, but she was almost always unswayed by him, or anyone else for that matter. She was so controlled, so precise, and yet, underneath all that was a firecracker, full of energy and industry. _It must be exhausting to be Laura Hobson_, he thought,_ she never seems to stop._ But here she was visibly relaxing, comfortable in his company, with his crap jokes and tired muscles. He reached out and ran his fingers over the hand that was resting on his upper thigh and she smiled, not even opening her eyes,

"So what are we going to do about Tuesday and Wednesday night?"

His fingers squeezed hers slightly and she rolled her head languorously along the cushion to look at him,

"What about Monty?"

He smiled reassuringly,

"I'll be home in the daytime, he'll be fine…to be honest, he's used to fending for himself"

She traced a lazy pattern on the back of his hand with her index finger,

"Then you'll stay here?"

He nodded, holding her gaze, instantly warmed by the grin that spread across her face. He tugged on her hand slightly and pulled her over to lie against his chest, his arm wrapping around her back.

"And then?"

He smiled to himself as predictably her mind cantered ahead, no doubt planning out their retirement…

"Then we'll have to come up with something else"

Not for the first time she marveled at his straightforward wisdom. No, he might not have a PhD or stupid letters after his name, but when it came to good old fashioned common sense, he trumped her every time. And he was right, there was no rush. This was enough. She snuggled into the soft wool of his jumper and closed her eyes. She could hear the steady beat of his heart against her ear, a strangely soothing sound that calmed her instantly…and the faint gurgle of his dinner made her smile. A kiss was pressed gently to the top of her head, and she was just beginning to truly relax when her phone began to buzz insistently on the desk behind the sofa,

"You have to be fucking kidding me…"

Startled and amused by the sudden, uncharacteristically frank outburst, Robbie sat up slightly,

"Just a sec…"

He reached out an arm towards the offending object and passed it over, still intrigued by the reaction it had provoked. She was still leaning against him, and as she pressed to accept the call, he saw the reason for her irritation. Dispatch.

"Hobson"

He couldn't hear the operator on the other end properly, just a steady stream of words, but he knew instantly what the call meant. She started to sit up, carefully discussing the details with the handler, gently but deliberately checking that her presence was absolutely required. She confirmed her attendance and quickly hung up, looking at the phone in her lap accusingly,

"There's been a shooting in Banbury, teenagers, one on his way to hospital now, one dead in a residential street, drugs on both of them."

She was still looking at the phone, her voice flat,

"They've already called ballistics, but I'll need to go now, they want it tidied up quickly." She smiled weakly, meeting his gaze, her hand coming to rest on his arm. "I'm sorry"

He smiled patiently, sitting up a bit so he could wrap an arm around her, kiss her cheek,

"Want me to drive you?"

The thought hadn't even occurred to her, and for a moment she dearly wished he could, but he'd had too much wine really. Besides, there was no point them both working. She ran her hand up his cheek until it came to rest against the back of his head, and leaned in to kiss him deliberately, slowly, taking her time. They might not now have the rest of the evening they had planned, but she was damned if she wouldn't make the most of what she did have. He teased her playfully, but reading her mood deepened the kiss, his arms pulling her closer to him, until they were both lying back against the sofa, her leg hooked around his waist. His body responded immediately, and she purred something unrepeatable in his ear, before claiming his lips again in a searing kiss. Eventually, reluctantly, Laura kissed him lightly on the cheek and began to extricate herself,

"I have to go, darling"

He smiled at the endearment, his hand still resting on the curve of her backside,

"I know"

"I'll probably be really late"

He nodded, understanding what she meant,

"Can I stay?"

She looked a little surprised, but nodded quickly,

"Of course. But I wouldn't wait up, you know how it is…"

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, and another to her forehead,

"Send me a text when you get there?"

She looked at him thoughtfully and shook her head,

"No, we can't start that…"

He raised an eyebrow, not understanding.

"If we do that every time one of us is called out, one day we'll forget, or get interrupted, and I'm not sure I could cope with the worry"

He smiled sadly, and nodded, knowing exactly how she felt. He brushed a stray bit of fringe out of her eyes and sighed contentedly.

"I'll be as quick as I can…"

"No, you'll just drive carefully, and concentrate, I'm not going anywhere"

"Yes, sir"

"Good girl"

For a moment he thought she might hit him for his condescension, but the fierce look in her eye was swiftly replaced with one of mischief. As she stood and turned towards the door she grabbed the tv remote and lobbed it gently into his lap,

"Here you go, old man…enjoy your rest while you can"

* * *

A/N - Thank you so much for your lovely reviews! They are so encouraging - and look, I managed two chapters in as many days! Definitely on the mend now, thanks for those of you who have asked. We're nearly there with this one now...a couple more chapters, and we'll be done. Thanks for sticking with me...and please, tell me what you think! :)


	32. Chapter 32

The sound of her car engine faded into the distance, and Robbie sat back down on the sofa. Apart from the low babble of the tv, the house was quiet. Although Laura lived just outside the centre of Oxford, somehow she had managed to find a little oasis of calm. Unlike his flat, there was no traffic in the street, and as he muted the volume on the tv, he could only hear the soft, regular tick of the clock in the hallway. It was peaceful, calming, and he reached for his mug of tea, before stretching his long legs out along the sofa.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the buzzing of his own phone roused him from a light doze. He rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly. The tv was still flickering in the corner, the sound muted, and he realised that he must have dropped off. He smirked to himself, it was far easier to drop off here without that great lump of a cat depositing himself on his chest. Robbie's phone was still on the counter in the kitchen and he hauled himself off the sofa with a groan. His back really wasn't enjoying this new level of exertion… Her house was still unfamiliar and he fumbled in the dark for the switch. The phone blinked insistently and he smiled as he read the message,

'I'm here, might be a while. Go to bed. X'.

He looked at the clock on the wall and yawned again.

'I thought we weren't going to do this ;)X'

He pressed send, and wandered over to the sink, squirted some soap into the plastic bowl and began to run the hot tap. He flicked the radio on and half-listened to a comedy programme as he began to soak the remaining pans. He was just drying up the final plates when his phone buzzed once more,

'I'm going soft in my old age'

_You and me both, pet_. He smiled to himself and pocketed the phone. It was just past eleven, and he wondered idly whether, if he found a decent book on Laura's loaded shelves, he might be able to stay up on the sofa until she got home. Sabotaged by his body once more though, he yawned again at the very thought of it, and decided to grab something and take it upstairs. By the large fridge - a marvel of mortuary-style chrome, he noted with a small smirk - was a small bookcase, quite literally stuffed with cookery books. They weren't organized neatly, but piled haphazardly, partly by size and, it appeared, largely by what had last been referenced, if the curry book was any indication. His hands itched to sort it out for her, but he decided that might be too much, too soon, and simply elected to borrow a couple of titles. If Laura was coming over on Thursday, he'd need all the inspiration he could muster…and although he absolutely planned to rope Hathaway in, it would be gentler on his pride if he could at least buy the ingredients unaided.

On his way up the stairs, Robbie suddenly realised that he wasn't sure what he should switch off, what needed locking. Last night he had wandered around on autopilot, leaving everything to her, but he suddenly felt that he was now in charge. _Surely Laura would have a routine…?_ He'd switched off the tv, and the back door was bolted, but would she want a light left on? He flicked the porch light switch, and noted the warm light that spilled out across the hallway, and hoped it was the right thing. Once in the bedroom he dumped the books on the bed and headed into the deceptively large en-suite. It was strange this cottage, there was more space than you expected, and although the lintels were a little on the low side, it was comfortable.

The bathroom was minimalistic, but warm. A large bath lined one wall, and the shower, as he'd found out last night, was both powerful and big enough for an ape like him. Unlike the other rooms of Laura's house, there was no clutter, and the white porcelain gleamed in the soft lighting. Last night, he'd practically fallen into the shower, but this evening he had time to ponder. _Where was all her stuff?_ If he knew anything about women, it was that they almost always had an awe-inspiring stash of lotions and potions secreted somewhere. But there was nothing. The shower had a few bottles of shampoo and body wash, and there was soap, a toothbrush and some toothpaste, but nothing else. _Curious_. He stripped and was soon under the warm spray of the shower. Once again he stole a palmful of her shower gel and used it to wash his hair. He'd never understood why women insisted on multiple versions of the same thing…_it was all just soap, wasn't it?_

As he emerged and wrapped himself in a towel, he marvelled once more at the power of Laura's extractor fan. He loved a steaming hot shower, and always ended up shaving in a cloud of fog at his flat, but her bathroom bore no sign whatsoever of his shower. _Amazing_. He would very much like to ask her who had fitted it, but bearing in mind the nascent state of their relationship, filed it away under 'things to say when she already knows you're boring'. He stepped over to the large sink and, filling the bowl with some warm water, began to carefully shave. The mirror was enormous and he suddenly realised what it must be: a cabinet. Finishing up, he patted his face with a towel and clicked open the mirrored door. _Bingo_. He smiled to himself, and inwardly chuckled at the rows of bottles and jars. She needed none of these embellishments, but it tickled him to think of her in here trying on lipstick and curling her hair. It had been a long time since he'd lived with a woman, and in truth, he'd missed all this. He picked up the small bottle of scent on the bottom shelf, the name unfamiliar and, although he was hardly a conoisseur, unusual, and took a sniff. Ginger, something floral, a hint of musk. _Laura_. She'd been wearing it for years, he knew that much, but he'd never known what it was. Carefully he placed it back on the glass shelf and moved to close the cabinet. As he did so, a small stack of prescription medicine packages caught his eye on the top shelf. Automatically he averted his eyes, just as he did when in the presence of one of her corpses, and swallowed. He didn't want to pry. He shut the cabinet carefully, and began to dry himself methodically, trying not to think about what he had seen. Nosing around in her makeup and stealing books from her shelf was one thing, reading her prescriptions was quite another, and he wasn't that kind of person.

* * *

It was almost midnight when he finally settled into bed, cookery books piled on his knee. First he leafed through a Jamie Oliver, which looked relatively approachable, but all the recipes he fancied seemed to require a barbecue, some exotic cuts of Italian meat or fresh fish. Although Oxford market was impressive, it was hardly Venice…which was where most of the pictures seemed to taken. He sighed and picked up another one. Lebanese. Ten pages in, he sighed loudly and chucked that one away too. He was as partial to a kebab as the next man, _but what the hell was tabbouleh?_ He couldn't even pronounce it, let alone make it. And anyway, a dish that seemed to consist predominantly of parsley didn't sound promising. He reached for the last book he'd brought up, a Nigella one. That was a name he knew, at least, although he'd never entirely understood the fuss Hathaway made about her various charms. He liked his muses in slightly smaller, rather blonder packages. But Hathaway was apparently besotted. He flicked through the various options, and settled on her chapter of roast dinners. 'Simple and homely'. He began to relax a bit. _This was more like it._..t_here were several options here…_

* * *

Just after 2am, Laura crept into the house. It was strange having to tiptoe around in the dark, normally she just stomped around after a night call, making tea, maybe watching some telly until her mind wound down. But tonight she didn't want to sit on the sofa alone. Carefully she removed her boots and jacket, and laying her heavy coat over the bannister, she climbed the stairs. All the lights were off in the bedroom, but the moonlight meant that she could make out his shape under the covers. He was curled up and sleeping soundly. She undressed, brushed her teeth and efficiently wiped off her makeup with a cotton pad. Her nightshirt was hanging in the bathroom, and slipping it over her head she padded into the bedroom. As she slid in beneath the sheets, he turned towards her, wrapping a warm arm around her waist and curling her against him,

"Everything ok?"

His voice was little more than a whisper and heavy with sleep,

"Fine"

"Good"

She felt his hand stroke through her hair, and a kiss was pressed firmly against the back of her head. Within minutes, both were soundly asleep.

* * *

Robbie woke with a start, momentarily disorientated. An arm lashed out against him, its target unclear. Next to him Laura was jerking wildly in her sleep, desperately trying to speak,

"No…don't, not there…"

She was wrestling against the duvet, trying to throw it back, her hands repeatedly grasping at the soft fabric. Her eyes were tightly shut and in the half-light he could see that she was fast asleep. For a moment he was as paralyzed as she was, unsure what to do. It was a long time since he'd had to deal with someone having a nightmare, but his brain quickly caught up. She lashed out again, and a sob caught in her throat. He switched on the side lamp, and looked at her closely, tears were streaming down her face, her mouth moving, trying to form words. He didn't want to scare her, but he couldn't let this continue…she was obviously already terrified. He placed his hand carefully on her upper arm, stroking soothingly, but firmly,

"You're ok, Laura, you're dreaming… you need to wake up, pet"

She calmed almost instantly at his touch and, with new-found confidence, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close against him. Her eyes flickered and she sobbed, shivering noticeably. He pulled the duvet up around them,

"It's alright, love, it's only me, you're safe now"

She was caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness and was struggling to make sense of things. It was the same old scenario, the same terrifying details, the fear that usually wrenched her from sleep, but instead of waking, this time she was relaxing, the scene dissolving. Gone was the shivering, and she felt warmth spreading across her back, around her shoulders,

"You're alright…"

The words rumbled softly against her ear and she felt lips press against her neck, a hand stroking her arm. _Robbie_. She gasped slightly, disorientated again, and blinked in the soft light. Her heart was still pounding loudly in her chest and the inevitable wave of nausea rolled across her stomach. She swallowed deliberately and took several slow, deep breaths. Her voice was hushed when she finally spoke,

"I'm sorry I woke you"

He slowly eased her on to her back and propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes never leaving hers,

"It's ok, love"

The watery lines slivering down her cheeks glistened in the warm light, and he kissed her forehead tenderly, his fingers stroking her cheek,

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, her eyes closing slightly, still trying to calm her breathing. He looked at her carefully, she was exhausted. Now wasn't the time for questions, and he pressed another kiss to her forehead, before turning to switch off the light. She tensed slightly, obviously afraid of returning to her dream, and he rolled her towards him, curling her over to lie squarely on his chest, keeping her close until she settled back into sleep.


	33. Chapter 33

As usual, Laura's alarm began it's insistent beep at 7am. There was a muffled curse and an arm shot out from under the duvet, grappling clumsily for the snooze button. The arm disappeared back under the duvet and she curled up tightly into a ball. He was lying next to her, his warmth rendering the thought of getting up impossible. He shifted slightly, an arm wrapping itself more tightly around her waist, a cheek pressed against her temple,

"D'you need to get up?"

She smiled at his husky voice, turning her face to meet his,

"No..it's ok…"

He sighed in approval and nuzzled back into her neck.

* * *

Eventually the daylight began to trace a luminous border around the curtains, and he found he could doze no longer. It was a long time since he had felt this relaxed. Her breathing was slow and shallow, she was entirely asleep. He pondered the events of the previous night. He'd long known about Laura's insomnia, that she often stayed up late and woke early, that she worked too hard, that she didn't drink anything caffeinated in the afternoons. But he'd never pushed her on the reasons why. It didn't seem appropriate to ask. Everyone was a bad sleeper these days, too many bloody screens, too much work, he'd never thought that there might be something more to it. She turn slightly, pressing her face into the pillow, her blonde hair fanning out. Maybe it was too early to ask her to talk about it. Yes, they had known each other for many years, but not like this. And it was too easy to convince himself that they had always been so close. She might need time. She might never want to talk to him about it.

He glanced over at the clock. Ten past eight. He was pretty sure that she wouldn't need to be at work, but she might not thank him for not waking her if she did. Gingerly he slid backwards, tucking the duvet around her, and padded his way downstairs to make some tea. If he was going to wake her, the least he could do was bring a peace offering.

* * *

Laura woke as the kettle clicked off, surprised by the familiar noise and momentarily confused. She glanced at the alarm clock and rubbed her eyes. As always, her phone and pager were both on the bedside table, and she checked both for messages. Out of habit she cleared a few junk emails, added a meeting to her calendar and, more out of curiosity than anything, checked the local news for the write up of last night's shooting. It was something she always did after a call out. It made it easier, somehow; added a bit of context to the clinical precision of her work. She was just scrolling through the BBC news article when Robbie set a large mug of tea down next to her.

"I was going to complain about being abandoned…but it looks like I might need to rethink that…thanks"

He grinned boyishly and, placing his own mug on the side, adjusted a few pillows, and slid in next to her.

"Are you ok this morning?"

She put her phone down, and grasping the steaming mug, took a sip of her tea. It was hot and strong, and immediately her nascent tension headache eased,

"I'm fine…it's ok"

He reached out and ran his palm across her shoulders,

"Would it help to talk about it?"

"No…not really"

She answered quickly, and he squeezed her shoulder gently.

"OK"

She was cradling the mug in both hands now, and she turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder, her eyebrow slightly raised. He smiled patiently,

"It's ok"

It was strange. Like a clenched muscle suddenly relaxing. As soon as she realised he wasn't going to push her, to question her, she wanted to talk. And, for once, the words came easily,

"I'm afraid it happens quite a lot…"

Her voice trailed off slightly, asking permission to continue,

"The nightmares?"

"Hmm…"

She took another sip of her tea, her finger tracing the smooth loop of the china handle.

"The twins?"

She smiled sadly and looked at him, again reminded of the guilt he still felt about that night.

"No, much further back, since I started training"

She set the mug back down on the table and hunched her knees up against her chest,

"It's pathetic really…"

She didn't see his raised eyebrow, or the concerned look in his eyes.

"You'd think a pathologist would be able to get a grip, wouldn't you?"

He sighed loudly, and again ran his hand down her back, trying to soothe the tension that was so obviously building. Carefully, he eased her down to lie against his chest, his arm wrapping around her stomach.

"Tell me what happens"

There was a pause, a moment of consideration, and then a flood of words,

"OK, when I'm stressed out, or thinking about work, I always end up in a locked room, being ordered to dissect a laughing child"

"Geez…that's…"

"I know…pretty macabre"

He kissed her temple, trying to imagine the scene, almost trying not to.

"Maybe I should quit the day job and write horror fiction?"

She was trying to make light of it. Perhaps she was right. But he couldn't imagine how she could cope with such images. She must be terrified to sleep.

"And you've carried on, even though you suffer like this?"

"Hmm…glutton for punishment, I guess"

He smiled with her, kissing her again.

"Does anything help?"

"Exercise, no caffeine, not too much wine…not being called out to a crime scene in the middle of the night"

He smiled reassuringly, mentally taking notes,

"Not getting too wound up, or eating lots of cheese, more's the pity…and remembering to take a bloody horse tranquiliser if I forget all the above"

That last admission was added quietly, her shoulders hunching slightly and she burrowed into his chest.

"It's ok, you know, taking pills…if you need them. Especially if it stops you punching me in your sleep…"

"Oh god, I didn't?"

She looked genuinely horrified and he grinned broadly,

"No, you didn't…but I think I can handle you, woman, don't you worry about that"

As if to prove it, he gripped her firmly and rolled her over until she was lying on top of him…before realising how the demonstration of control had somewhat backfired on him. She smirked, playfully pinning his wrists above his head, relief coursing through her.

"You know, there is a silver lining to last night…"

"Hmm…?"

She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, teasing him mercilessly,

"I'm legally required to take the next 12 hours off, so technically I don't need to get up until at least midday"

He smirked back, pleased to have rediscovered playful Laura after the morning's charged words,

"That is most excellent news. And would you have any particular plans for this morning? In light of your newfound freedom…"

Her hands though small, were firm in their grip, and she teased his palms with her thumbs,

"Have you recovered yet from yesterday's exertions, old man?"

"Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out…"

AN - OK folks, I think that's it... I'm sorry it's taken so long to finish. I've been rather distracted by other projects, but I am pleased to announce that I have another long fic in the works! It won't be posted for a little while, mainly because I want to have the majority drafted before posting anything, but it is coming. Thanks so much to those of you who have read my little meander, and especially to those who have taken to review, your comments have been much appreciated.


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